Once Touched
by Xezo
Summary: Returning to School for his 6th year, Harry has been abandoned by his friends. Draco encounters Harry in the Forest and witnesses something that changes both of their lives. Once touched, there is no going back. DM/HP.
1. Prologue

I just started this yesterday, only the second HP fanfic I've written

I just started this yesterday, only the second HP fanfic I've written. Obviously going to be Harry/Draco. Set at the beginning of HBP but without anything important in that book. Feedback would be much appreciated. It's third person but mostly focusing on Draco.

Disclaimer: Only own the plot.

Once Touched

Prologue

Draco wasn't quite sure how it happened. One minute Harry Potter was shouting insults at him and the next second he was writhing on the ground in pain. They were in the Forbidden Forest, both were wandering aimlessly, both had unwittingly stumbled to the same clearing, thinking they'd be alone.

Draco stood in shock as Harry was twisting on the ground, one hand on his scar, screaming in a way that could break glass. Draco looked around, wondering if someone was casting _crucio_ on him, but there was no one else around. Draco still had his wand in hand, his grip loosened as he stood transfixed by the sight.

"No! You fucking bastard, I'll kill you, Riddle, I swear to god I'll fucking kill you!" Harry suddenly screamed and Draco's eyes widened as he realised Harry was communicating with Lord Voldemort.

Harry thrashed around for many more minutes before he let out a demonic laugh and it was clear Voldemort was using Harry's own voice to talk to him.

"Threats won't save her, Potter. And you'll watch her die, because you are too weak to keep me from your feeble mind. I told you to give yourself up, this is your punishment, boy," Voldemort hissed through Harry's lips.

Draco completely lost his grip on his wand. In his horror he was frozen in place. Sweat was breaking out over his skin from just _watching_ this confrontation. Harry continued to let out agonizing screams that chilled Draco right to his very core. He knew he should get help but he couldn't move.

"Hermione!" Harry suddenly yelled before falling still, only his heaving chest betraying the fact he was still alive.

There was silence all around them. Draco found he still could not move. If he understood the situation correctly, Harry had just watched Granger die, through Voldemort's eyes. He was suddenly glad they had run into each other in the Forbidden Forest rather than in a hallway at school. If any students had found them like that they would probably have started hexing Draco, thinking it was him attacking Harry.

It took a few seconds for Draco to realise Harry was now sobbing softly. Draco had no idea what they had even been arguing about now. He'd heard the rumours about Voldemort sending Harry images and emotions but he had no idea Voldemort could talk through Harry, or that it caused him so much pain.

Harry slowly began to pick himself up until he was leaning against a tree, his hair hiding his face from view. Draco feared Harry would attack him for just witnessing that. In fact he picked his wand back up just in case, but he had no intention of attacking Potter now.

After a while Harry caught his breath again and gingerly brought his hand to his forehead, already knowing his scar would be bleeding. He was, however, surprised to find so much blood beginning to trickle down his face. He was well aware of Draco's presence but was hoping that if he ignored the other boy he would simply go away.

He was not expecting hesitant hands to suddenly smooth the hair away from his forehead to examine his scar. He raised his eyes to meet Draco's and felt Voldemort enter his mind again and realised he had never left it. He closed his eyes immediately but not soon enough. Draco let him go with a gasp, obviously seeing the red flash into his eyes. Then Voldemort was gone. When Harry opened his eyes, they were his again.

Draco stared at Harry, not knowing what had possessed him to even touch the boy, and not knowing what the hell the red light in his eyes had been. Harry stared at him, completely vulnerable. Draco's eyes shifted to the trickle of blood that was slowly making its way down Harry's face.

"Your scar is bleeding," Draco said softly, never having heard of that happening before.

"It tends to do that if I resist the connection," Harry muttered. "I need to get to Dumbldore."

Draco wondered why Harry had bothered to tell him that and then realised Harry needed assistance. He hesitantly pulled Harry's arm over his shoulder and started helping the boy walk towards the castle, still in a state of shock. He wanted to ask questions but he was Draco Malfoy, son of a Death Eater and someone Harry hated, he didn't expect answers.

"He saw you," Harry said softly, as they reached the castle.

Draco stopped walking and turned to face Harry, who wouldn't look him in the eye. It was then he realised what that flash of red had been; he'd only seen one set of red eyes before.

"He thinks you were helping me, that we're friends. You're marked for death, I'm sorry," Harry continued, unfazed. "Get me to Dumbledore."

Draco hesitated again but continued walking. It was around lunchtime, so Dumbledore would be with the rest of the school, eating lunch. Draco didn't want to draw attention to them, but he needed to get Harry to Dumbledore to get answers.

Every eye turned towards them and all chatter stopped as they entered the room. Dumbledore instantly left his seat and began hurrying towards Harry. Draco looked for Weasley, wondering whether he would come running to Potter's aid. He stayed seated. As Dumbledore neared them, Draco felt Harry slump even further and knew the boy was about to pass out. Quickly Harry said, in the loudest voice he could manage, the four words that explained everything.

"He got to Hermione."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Draco found himself in Dumbledore's office a few hours later with Harry still unconscious on one of the infirmary beds. He'd been transported there as if Dumbledore did not trust the infirmary. Dumbledore had interrogated Draco for an hour about what had happened. Draco only wanted answers but every time he opened his mouth to ask a question, Dumbledore started talking again. He was extremely frustrated when Dumbledore left, only pausing to tell him to stay in the office and not to cause Harry anymore stress if he woke up.

Draco politely kept his gaze away from Harry, knowing the Gryffindor hated people seeing him vulnerable. He found it only slightly amusing that five years of rivalry had allowed him to gain quite a bit of knowledge about Harry's basic characteristics. But he knew he didn't really know anything important about Harry.

Draco had no idea what to think about the situation he was in. He found himself feeling guilty that he had once wished Granger dead. It was amazing how much a person could change in just a few weeks. It had been Draco's own encounter with Voldemort that caused him to change his views on everything. Now Voldemort knew he was not carrying out the order he had been given. Draco wondered briefly if his father would be punished, then wondered if he even cared.

Draco gave up ignoring Harry and walked over to him. One small boy had beaten back Voldemort again and again, and lost nearly everyone he cared about doing it. That kind of thing would break Draco, and he knew it. He had hid his sympathy for Harry behind the usual insults and petty pranks that year. Draco knew he couldn't hide behind false hate anymore. He knew he was pathetic for still craving Harry's friendship, crazy in fact, considering what happened to Harry's friends.

Draco remembered the start of the year, their sixth year at Hogwarts. He had been given orders to kill Dumbledore, Harry had come back to school alone. Hermione hadn't come back at all, but gone into hiding with her parents, set on defending them since they could not defend themselves. It seemed Harry's friends did not forgive him for the incident at the Ministry. It had sent a bolt of outrage through Draco.

Although Draco had been Harry's nemesis for a long time, even he knew Harry gave everything he had for his friends, loyal until the end. It had saddened even him to see Harry abandoned. He had thought that Harry stumbling in with blood running down his forehead would kick at least Weasley back into action but no, no one had cared enough to go to him.

Draco reached out and gently shifted Harry's hair away from his forehead to look at the scar. It was no longer bleeding but it looked red and angry. Draco still found it hard to believe that people judged Harry by the scar on his head, rather than his heart. No one cared what kind of person Harry really was, they only cared whether he would live up to his scar's legend and kill Voldemort permanently. If he still had the scar, then he was still a hero to them.

When Draco looked back at Harry's face he realised Harry was awake, and watching him curiously. He pulled his hand back but didn't move. Harry looked so vulnerable it almost brought Draco, the Slytherin Ice Prince, to tears. Draco was half expecting Harry to yell at him for daring to touch him but he didn't. It was almost as if Draco's touch had been calming him. Draco gently ran his finger down Harry's face and wondered if anyone ever even touched him anymore, or if anyone ever had to begin with.

Before either could react, Dumbledore was back. Ignoring the boys for a moment, the Headmaster went to one of the paintings and started whispering with the woman in it. This gave Harry time to sit up and Draco time to move away and feel appalled at his own behaviour. When Dumbledore turned to face them Draco realised Harry wasn't looking at Dumbledore like he used to, there was no admiration there anymore. There was undisguised disappointment in Harry's eyes.

"Mr Malfoy. It is my duty to inform you that I am aware of the order Lord Voldemort gave you at the beginning of this year," he said quietly, pausing as Draco flinched away. "However, as you have yet to make any attempt to carry it out we will disregard your connection with the Death Eaters. Voldemort has already issued orders to bring you in for punishment, as he saw you aiding Harry."

"What will happen to me now?" Draco asked quietly.

"You now fall under my protection; I will keep you safe from Voldemort and his followers."

They both heard Harry let out a chilling bitter laugh at that statement but Dumbledore kept talking before Harry could interrupt.

"You will be removed from the Slytherin dungeons and put into your own quarters on the other side of the castle, Harry's rooms to be exact. You will now be permanently living here at Hogwarts until safe housing can be found. The password for your room is '_Assassin_' to remind you of your new loyalties. Harry," Dumbledore now said, turning away from Draco and his outrage at the password. "Draco's room is the room joined to yours, you will be sharing all of the other rooms. Your password still stands, unless you would rather use Draco's, which will work for both of you."

Harry, who was well used to Dumbledore by now, was not surprised when he suddenly left them there without any further explanation. Harry wordlessly gestured for Draco to follow and also left the room.

--

"These rooms are your new home. Your room is through the black door and mine through the green. That door over there leads to..."

Harry was explaining the layout of his rooms to Draco, who was not really listening. He had no idea Harry no longer slept in the Gryffindor tower. Harry still ate at the Gryffindor table and wore their robes but it now seemed that was the only sign he was still a member of that house. Harry must have finished his explanation while Draco had been thinking because he now collapsed into one of the comfortable looking couches in what was their 'common room'. Draco sat in a chair opposite and decided to start asking questions.

"So, do I still eat at the Slytherin table?"

"No, it would be too easy for them to poison your food. You'll eat at the end of the Gryffindor table with me. While that draws attention to us at least you'll be safe," Harry said, maintaining an unreadable expression on his face.

"So, what? We're all buddy-buddy now?" Draco asked, surprising himself and Harry by having no contempt in his voice.

"There is no reason why we have to be friends. It would be easier if we just kept out of each others way. I don't know about you but in the face of this war, petty childhood rivalries belong in the past. Anyway, I'm going to bed now because I'm exhausted, obviously. If you need anything just call for one of the house elves, they'll help you," Harry said, yawning.

Draco realised Harry was effectively hiding his grief, something he had never been able to do before that year. He nodded to show he understood but didn't move from his seat. His eyes followed Harry, slightly concerned about the other boy. Harry stopped halfway through his door as he remembered to tell Draco something else.

"If you hear me screaming during the night don't worry, it'll only be a nightmare."


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this took a while

A/N: Sorry this took a while. Thank you to those who have reviewed it!

--

Chapter 2

As the weeks passed, Draco found himself very comfortable in his new home. He and Harry fell into a routine for mornings and nights, knowing the other's timetable so well they always knew where the other was. The rest of the school had been fairly shocked to see Draco sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table with Harry, even though they didn't really talk, but the Gryffindors just ignored Draco like they did Harry.

The Sytherins were still in a state of shock over Draco's sudden departure and clearly didn't know how to react now their leader was gone. Draco knew that eventually they would start to try and hurt him, but he was prepared for it. He never spent much time out of his and Harry's rooms, not wanting to push his luck. Mostly he just went to meals and classes, with the odd visit to the library.

Draco was pleasantly surprised to find that their living quarters included a study with a wide variety of books, all belonging to Harry himself. He also found that a new desk had been placed there a week after his arrival, Harry's unspoken invitation to join him there for studying. Draco was surprised they could live so closely and yet barely talk but he allowed Harry his silence.

It hadn't taken him long to realise this was how Harry must have lived for the two months of school so far that year, and the holidays too if he was correct in his assumption that Harry lived there. He felt sorry for Harry, he no longer had any friends, his life revolved around his solitude in his rooms, and now Draco was there.

Draco had also become accustomed to Harry's nightmares, still not able to sleep through the screams but no longer as afraid as the first few nights. Nearly every night he had to fight the urge to go and comfort Harry, but he held back every time. Harry had lived without friends for quite some time now, and while he had not protested to Draco touching him in Dumbledore's office, Draco doubted Harry would be happy with Draco witnessing his tears.

--

One night, a few weeks after living with Harry Draco woke to screams of pain, too real to be a nightmare. Protective instincts that he didn't know he had kicked in and he found himself rushing into Harry's room.

Harry was writhing in pain, just like the day in the forest. Draco had no idea what to do but he did not freeze like he had that day. He carefully climbed onto Harry's bed, avoiding the limbs that were flailing about. He gently but firmly gripped the sides of Harry's face, calling his name and trying to break him free.

Harry managed to kick him over and Draco realised he wouldn't be able to do this gently. He took a deep breath to calm himself before clambering on top of Harry until he was straddling his waist. To stop himself from being hit he grabbed both Harry's wrists and used one hand to keep them pinned above Harry's head. He knew being restrained would not help Harry with whatever Voldemort was showing him but he had try and snap Harry out of it.

Using his free hand, Draco gently gripped Harry's chin to get the boy to look at him. Harry's eyes were closed though. Draco caught sight of Harry's scar, not bleeding yet but red and angry. Without knowing why he was suddenly reaching out and running his finger along the scar, which was almost too hot to touch. Not even knowing if it was helping he kept gently stroking the scar he knew he probably shouldn't touch, but it seemed to be working.

After a few more minutes Harry stopped thrashing around and instead of screaming he just let out little moans of pain instead. It was still a while before he regained enough consciousness to open his eyes. When he did Draco was relieved to see vibrant green rather than that flash of red he had feared. Harry didn't move for a long time. He lay perfectly still, breath still laboured. Draco was terrified he would be angry, so he did not move either.

"You touched my scar," Harry murmured, a long time after he had caught his breath.

"I'm sorry," Draco said automatically. "I didn't know what to do, I was just trying to stop it."

A small smile appeared on Harry's lips. "It's okay, I'm not mad. I'm just...surprised. No one's ever touched it before."

Draco didn't reply, he had no idea what to say to that. He had always thought people would be clambering to touch the scar that marked him as a hero. Although he couldn't say he'd ever really wanted to touch it himself. It seemed like such an intimate thing to do now that he knew no one else had.

"But it worked?" he asked hopefully.

Harry nodded a little. Neither seemed aware of the fact Draco was still holding Harry's arms above his head. Harry was still recovering from the shock of what he had seen, and Draco was so distracted by the discovery that he was the only person, aside from Harry himself, that had touched the scar.

"Usually it burns and hurts like it's being cut into my forehead but I felt the second you touched it. It was like you numbed the pain or something. It gave me something real, physical to hang on to. I just focused on that and eventually it all disappeared."

It was then Harry subconsciously flexed one of his wrists and Draco realised he was still pinning them to the bed. He immediately let go, mumbling another apology before climbing off Harry. Harry sat up and rubbed his forehead a little before turning to Draco again.

"How did you even know it wasn't another nightmare?"

"The pain sounded real." Draco shrugged and rose to go back to bed. Harry's voice stopped him as he reached the door.

"Thank you."

Draco turned back and stared at Harry for a while. Something in Harry's voice was different, but he didn't know what it was.

--

After that night Harry and Draco no longer lived in silence. Of course it had been a long time since Harry had even talked to someone. They still sat in silence some days, but now they both knew they had only to talk to the other to start a conversation. Draco learned more about Harry than he thought possible, and was surprised to find he and Harry had a lot in common.

No one seemed to know they lived near each other. Since the start of the year, no one had known where Harry slept, if they even knew he wasn't in the Gryffindor tower, and now no one knew where Draco slept either. They talked during some of the meals, ignoring everyone else. Draco still felt a small resentment towards Harry for once turning down his friendship but they were becoming friends now.

It wasn't something Draco ever thought would happen. Of course he wanted it to happen, he always had wanted to be friends with Harry. It wasn't any kind of power trip, he didn't want to be friends with 'Harry Potter', he never had. He had recognised Harry as someone like him. While Draco had physically had parents all his life, emotionally he had been as much an orphan as Harry was.

Draco's only real friend in Slytherin had been Millicent, they had become friends the second they met, Millicent also having emotionally absent parents. She was the only Slytherin he missed. He knew from being her friend that he was a physical friend. He liked touching his friends, in a strictly innocent way, almost as reassurance they were still there. Absentmindedly brushing against them as he walked, hugs whenever there was an excuse. Touching a hand or arm to emphasis a point. Whenever he could get away with it, he made physical contact with his friends. He supposed he had abandonment issues and craved reassurance that he wasn't alone.

He wasn't sure how to do this around Harry, who seemed to have gone without contact, even from Weasley and Granger, all his life. It was Draco's nature and until becoming friends with Harry he hadn't realised how suggestive simple touches could be. He only noticed this because Harry tended to freeze up when Draco touched him. He didn't freeze up in a tense way, he just stopped moving when he registered that he was actually being touched, like it surprised him. Draco realised it did surprise him, but Harry never mentioned it.


	4. Chapter 3

Sorry this took ages, lost my pendrive which has all my writing on it. Anyway, hope I still have at least one person reading this.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

Chapter 3

Harry and Draco were both sitting on the couch in the study, discussing their latest assignment. Draco was discovering that Harry was far more intelligent than he had appeared over the years. Draco was now beginning to think Harry dumbed himself down so Hermione could be the smart one.

The assignment was for potions, and one had to have a good grasp on the theory behind potions, something that from past experience Draco knew Harry didn't grasp. But Harry surprised him by knowing more about potion theory than Draco, who was nearly the best at potions in the entire school.

"My mother was brilliant at potions," Harry said by way of explanation.

"Then why aren't you brilliant at potions in class?" Draco asked, sounding suspicious.

Harry flushed red and muttered something about 'not important'. Draco just raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look.

"You'll think I'm stupid," Harry muttered, still looking for a way out of answering.

"Once I would have, but I _know_ you aren't stupid now," Draco said in a half joking manner.

Harry's shoulders slumped and he gave Draco a half-hearted glare. "I liked Snape being an ass to me because he was the only teacher who didn't treat me like some fucking hero, if it meant acting dumb when I wasn't then I didn't really care. See, stupid, huh?" Harry muttered dejectedly while looking away from Draco.

Draco instantly put his hand under Harry's chin to turn him until they were looking at each other. Harry didn't show any aversion to Draco's innocent touch so Draco left his hands cupping Harry's chin to add emphasis.

"That is not stupid, Harry," he said firmly. "If I had to deal with what you dealt with over the years I would have done that too."

"I highly doubt that."

"I did this year." Harry looked confused so Draco sighed and elaborated. "Meeting You Know Who over the holidays gave me one hell of a reality check. When I came back to school I had thought over everything I knew about you and didn't hate you. I saw the shit you went through over the years and respected you for it. But I kept acting like an ass because it was habit and because it was probably the only way I'd get you to pay me any attention," Draco confessed.

"Why would you want my attention?" Harry's expression darkened, "Or did you want 'The Boy Who Lived's attention."

"I wanted to be friends with the only other boy I knew that didn't have any parents," Draco said softly.

"You have parents, Draco," Harry said almost angrily.

"Physically, yes, emotionally, no. I'm just the heir, the necessary attachment. I'm not their child, they aren't my parents. They've never cared about me, they never even paid me any attention unless they got something out of it."

Subconsciously Draco stroked Harry's jaw with his thumb but stopped when he saw Harry flinch. Sighing he removed his hand, knowing Harry was finally going to call him on all the touches.

"I'm sorry, I-"

Harry cut across before Draco could finish. His voice was shaky and there was an angry set to his jaw. Draco suddenly felt afraid that he had crossed a more serious line than he had realised.

"Don't ever touch me like that again!" Harry spat before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "While I can't say I understand why you're always touching me, I'm fine with it. Just don't ever do that again, touch me anyway you like just not that!"

Draco frowned, wondering why it was only a small stroke over Harry's jaw that was so taboo. Harry noticed the confusion and reach out, griping Draco's chin rather firmly, but still not painfully. He dragged his thumb over Draco's jaw while the rest of his hand held Draco's chin still too firmly.

"Doesn't seem that bad does it?" Harry asked, his voice getting that shaky, dangerous edge again. "Now imagine Voldemort doing that while you're tied to a headstone in the middle of a circle of Death Eaters, with a friend lying dead not three metres away. Then add pain worse than the _cruciatus_ at the same time. Don't ever touch me like that again!"

Harry stormed out of the room, slamming the door in his wake and leaving their quarters completely.

---

Harry walked blindly through the school corridors, heading towards the entrance so he could get outside, away from everyone. He knew he would be as white as muggle paper, and the crying probably didn't make him look any better. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at Draco like that, when he had no idea what he was doing. He was terrified that Draco may hate him now that they had just started to be friends. Harry missed having a friend. He was also terrified he may have hurt Draco, he had fought so hard to keep his grip light.

He hadn't even told Hermione and Ron about Voldemort touching him like that. There had never been any threat of either of them touching him the same way, they barely ever touched him anyway. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it coming; Draco was always touching him when he could get away with it. Although Harry didn't understand why at least he knew the touches were innocent, unlike Voldemort's.

Not watching where he was going Harry suddenly collided with someone and fell to the floor. He quickly stood up and moved to keep walking when the voice made him freeze and look up.

"Watch where the fuck you're going, Potter!"

Harry looked around at the other people's faces. For the first time since the start of the year, he was being confronted by those he had once called friends. He refused to show how much hearing Ron say his last name had hurt. Ron and a few others were blocking his way down the corridor.

"Let me pass," Harry said, keeping his head down.

"Why should we let a _murderer_ wander around without punishment? We still haven't paid you back for Hermione!" Ron yelled.

"Get out of my way," Harry said a little stronger, he had to get outside, he had to get away from the reminders. He could see it all happening behind his eyes. The graveyard, Cedric dying. Voldemort coming back, Voldemort touching him. He let out a small whimper at the memory, if it wasn't for Voldemort's short attention span....

"Hear that, he's afraid of us," Ginny laughed, soon followed by everyone else.

Harry looked up and he was done playing nice. Ron had the sense to look a little nervous, seeing this cold version of Harry.

"Why would I ever be afraid of a bunch of children after the things I've seen?" he said coldly. "Get out of my way."

"Hermione is dead because of you! Did you seriously think we wouldn't get you back for that? Oh, that's right, you never cared enough about her to think past her death," Ron said, anger outweighing fear. The others were still laughing behind Harry.

"I HAD TO WATCH VOLDEMORT TORTURE, RAPE, AND KILL HER. HOW DARE YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE I DON'T CARE!" Harry roared, stopping the laughter.

Harry raised his wand, "Get the fuck out of my way, Ron!"

Ron finally realised how much danger he was in. He paled incredibly fast but seemed frozen to the spot by fear. Harry wasn't sure what he would have done if Draco hadn't shown up.

He felt a soothing hand cover his on the wand and stood frozen for a while before letting Draco lower the wand and take it from him. Draco's eyes were fixed on Harry's wand throughout, as if a spell would be let loose any second. Carefully, Draco slipped Harry's wand into his pocket. He glanced at Ron once. Even though his mind was lost to fear, Ron noticed Draco looked just as scared of Harry.

Harry himself was still shaking from anger when Draco gently turned him to face him. Draco carefully placed his hands on either side of Harry's face, avoiding his jaw line. He made Harry meet his eyes and saw a small shimmer of red lurking there. He shivered but pretended that he hadn't seen it.

"Harry, you see things from Voldemort's eyes. Do you feel what he feels in those situations?" Draco asked calmly, shocking Harry enough to have him nod before realising he didn't want to answer that.

"Fuck you, Malfoy! I'm not some sick fuck like he is!" Harry yelled when he realised what it sounded like, trying to shove Draco off him.

"Harry, I merely needed to understand, I know you aren't like him. You need to calm down now."

Draco was starting to realise that Voldemort gained control of Harry easier when he was angry. Harry's eyes changed to red and Draco knew everyone had moved behind Draco and could see this clearly.

"Hello, Voldemort," he said coldly.

"Draco. I gave you a mission if I remember correctly, why are you helping the enemy?" Voldemort hissed through Harry's lips.

Draco shivered but didn't let go of Harry. Somewhere in his head Harry was still conscious, he would need the reassurance if he was to break back through. "I'm not one of your fucking slaves anymore, I renounced you!" he spat back.

"Yes, I see. Friends with Harry now, are you? I saw what happened back in your rooms. I see the boy hasn't forgotten the various methods of torture I use against him." Harry let out a demonic laugh that cause shivers to run down Draco's spine.

"Poor little Potter, poor abused Potter. You reach out with your innocent reassuring touch and he attacks you for it," Voldemort hissed. "You want to attach yourself to someone so weak? I thought Malfoys' wanted power? Don't you want power, Draco?"

"He is stronger than you will ever be, you sick fuck!" Draco was sure that his confidence and bravery was coming from Harry.

"Sick fuck? Ah, you refer to the mudblood friend of his. Quite entertaining, although she wasn't nearly as fun as Potter was to play with. She screamed too much, begged too much, no fight in her at all. Harry is far more fun, more of a challenge. Have you ever heard him whimpering in pain, trying to hold back the screaming, Draco? Have you ever wanted to see him, the world's hero, break? He never feared me, no matter what I did, until that moment. I have finally found a way to make him fear me. All I have to do is feed him those memories and he's a wreck. I'm showing him the memories now, you should hear his pitiful thoughts."

"Get out of his head!" Draco yelled, disgusted by him.

"You defend him? He'll hurt you one day, or I'll kill you because of him. Love is his weapon against me, according to that old fool. Well he cannot love anymore. He's just a little boy in need of pain to feel alive. I used to use the _cruciatus_ on him but I found this contact causes him far more pain."

Harry suddenly let out an ear-splitting scream and slumped to the ground. Draco let go of his face and Harry started writhing again. But Draco knew what to do now. He quickly straddled Harry's waist and pinned his hands above his head, hearing a low gasp from somewhere next to him. If he wasn't so absorbed in saving Harry from the pain he would have rolled his eyes at such immaturity. With his free hand he smoothed the hair back from Harry's forehead, baring the scar. Harry had stopped screaming now, he made small whimpers, the initial shock of pain gone and his pride forcing him not to give Voldemort the pleasure. Draco started tracing the scar with his thumb, just like before.

"Come on, Harry. You can fight him, we've done this before. I'm right here," he murmured.

Instead of the transition being slow like before Harry just suddenly slumped. Eyes closed, chest heaving. Draco continued to stroke the scar, still wary. The transition was too quick. Harry opened his eyes, Draco saw no red but he wasn't going to let his guard down.

"Are you back now, Harry?" he asked quietly, still stroking the scar gently.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry Draco. I didn't mean to hurt you, I know you didn't mean to touch me like he did. I jus-" Harry started babbling.

Draco covered Harry's mouth gingerly, hoping Voldemort hadn't done that either. Harry just stopped talking but didn't freeze up.

"No apologising! I had no idea Voldemort would ever even try to..." Draco shuddered. "I'm not going to let you go, because this wouldn't be the first time it's looked like he's gone when he's still lurking in there, I don't particularly want to hear anymore shit like that."

Harry nodded gently and Draco continued. They both seemed oblivious to their audience.

"Harry, I was there when you saw what he did to Hermione. You may have felt his pleasure but I know you didn't really _feel_ it, all you physically felt was pain. I had no idea what you were witnessing until now. Why didn't you tell anyone he raped her?" Draco asked, and took his hand off Harry's mouth so he could talk. Harry stayed silent.

"Harry, did he rape you that night in the graveyard?" Draco asked quietly, not even hearing the gasps around him.

Harry clenched his eyes and jaw shut and didn't talk. He forced every fibre of his being into keeping the memory at bay. It had been so close. A tear slipped free and he cursed his weakness. His eyes flew open when Draco caressed his cheek, wiping away the tear.

"Harry, I need to know. If I'm your friend now I need that amazing trust you have for your friends, or at least those who do not abandon you." Draco glanced at Ron before turning to Harry and forgetting Ron again.

"Nearly," Harry whispered fearfully. "The Death Eaters were there but one arrived late, if it wasn't for him and Voldemort's short attention span then he would have...."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Draco asked gently.

"No one even believed he was back, they thought I was just trying to get attention. I didn't even want anyone to know he'd cast _crucio_ on me, or used my blood to regain his body. I didn't want anyone to know. But I felt him touching me and at the same time his emotions, I'm disgusting, just like him."

Draco swiftly let Harry's arms go and slipped off him in time to have Harry desperately cling to him, trying to hide his face from the rest of the people there. Draco stoked his hair soothingly. He turned to glare at Ron and the others.

"You are nothing like him. You are a far better man than he will ever be. At least you are loyal till the end, willing to die for your friends. He doesn't even feel love, or compassion. That sick fuck is nothing like you and you'll never become like him."

"Hermione's death was not your fault. Voldemort knew your friends had abandoned you, he used that against you. It's not your fault Harry." Draco glared at Ron as he carefully helped Harry to his feet and started to lead him away. Harry stopped him and turned back to look at those who had witnessed all of that.

"You better keep you mouths shut or I swear to God I'll kill you all, I have no mercy for backstabbing traitors!" he spat, a near perfect rendition of Voldemort's voice.

* * *

Thoughts anyone?


	5. Chapter 4

Thank you, to all who have been feeding back, it really makes my day! Here's another chapter, let me know what you think.

Chapter 4

Harry was a little worried after they had returned to their rooms. Draco had a way of making him say whatever was asked of him, no matter the circumstances, especially while they were in some kind of skin contact; it made him very uneasy. Had he not trusted Draco so much, had he not been so comforted by his voice and touch, Harry would have said nothing in that hallway. As it was, he was mortified that he had said what he had. He had been planning on taking that secret to the grave, now he would be lucky if it would be only a day before everyone found out.

Draco seemed to understand this and gave him a comforting hug before they both went their separate ways to bed, but standing on the other side of his closed door, Harry realised it was quite a while before Draco actually entered his own room, but he had already been opening his door when Harry had closed his.

---

Harry's nightmares were so bad that night that Draco just couldn't lie there and let them continue. It took him a long time to wake Harry, and when he did he was backhanded for his efforts. He instantly moved back and held a hand to his aching jaw, surprised that Harry could even hit that hard.

"Shit, Draco!" Harry suddenly said as he gained awareness. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise it was you."

Instantly he was next to Draco and removing his hand to make sure he didn't cause too much damage. Draco knew there would be a bruise tomorrow, but he didn't really care. Draco glanced at Harry's face and saw that the other boy was staring at where his hands were touching Draco's jaw with an odd look. Harry had obviously touched less people than had ever touched him.

Draco couldn't understand how someone could live without some form of physical contact with another person. He knew he couldn't live without touching those around him, reassuring himself that they were still there. But he realised, in that moment, he hadn't been touched much either. He'd always innocently touched Millicent through the years, only rarely had she touched him back, not needing reassurance as much as him. Then again, she'd had far more friends that he, pushing past her issues in a way he hadn't been able to.

Now Harry was running his fingers over Draco's cheek, gently so as to not hurt him. Draco wondered if everyone's touch would be that calming, or if it was just Harry. Either way he was comforted by that timid touch. He realised dimly that this was what he had been looking for, a friend who needed as much reassurance as him.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured again, finally looking up and locking eyes with Draco. There was still an odd look in Harry's eyes as he maintained contact with Draco's skin, and Draco began to wonder if maybe Harry felt something weird on his skin.

"It's okay, it doesn't even hurt anymore."

Harry frowned and Draco thought he had said something wrong but Harry's touch hadn't changed. In fact he was now exploring Draco's face with his fingertips in the dark. Draco wondered if Harry was seeking reassurance but didn't know how to ask him. After a while Harry's hand fell away and Draco felt a sense of loss. He also noticed the strange look leave Harry's eye to be replaced with barely noticeable confusion.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to leave now too?" Harry asked, looking at him with a sense of vulnerability that Draco wished he'd never have to see again.

All the pride that was infused in Harry's Aura was gone completely. All evidence of his refusal to let anyone else win over him disappeared. Draco assumed that this was Harry's true Aura, the one he hid from everyone else. Harry was just a frightened, continuously abandoned child, seeking reassurance. After fighting so long, Harry no longer fought his need for a real friend. A real friend needed to know what they were getting themselves into and be his friend anyway, but Harry couldn't bear to speak Draco's fate, as Harry Potter's friend.

"No, Harry," Draco said, finding Harry's hand in the dark and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not going to leave you."

Harry returned the gesture with a sense of relief. Draco knew he should go back to his room but he didn't want to leave Harry alone to his nightmares, now that he knew what some of them were. He also knew he needed to ask what other touches he should avoid, he did not want a repeat of the previous day. There was no easy way to say it, he just had to be blunt.

"Harry, I need to know what other ways I shouldn't touch you," he said quietly, hoping a quiet voice may lessen the stress put on Harry.

He felt Harry tense up and instinctively reached out with his other hand and started stroking the inside of Harry's wrist. After a while Harry relaxed and Draco let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"I think it would just be the chin thing. He has such sharp long nails you couldn't recreate the rest even if you tried," Harry replied after a long silence. "I think I get more affected by that touch because I could see it happening, I couldn't see the rest. Overall, I'm not sure. I'll just try hard not to lose my cool if you do touch me like that."

Harry reached out and ran the back of his fingers over Draco's jaw. "I trust you not to hurt me, even though I don't trust myself not to hurt you."

"Thank you," Draco murmured, feeling honoured to have that trust after everyone else had abused it. "I know you'd never intentionally hurt me."

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, but it's the unintentional hurt that is the greater threat."

---

"Oi, Malfoy!"

Draco flinched as he heard Weasley call out his name. Draco had been heading back from the library after returning some books. He had been waiting for a confrontation but he still hadn't really thought it would be so soon. He turned to face Weasley, making sure his wand was visible in his hand.

"What do you want?" he asked, voice heavy with suspicion. Weasley was alone, which surprised Draco, but he didn't let his guard down.

"I want to know where Harry is staying."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Why on earth would I tell you that, Weasley? What even makes you think I know?"

Ron looked a little nervous and fidgeted, glancing around as if Harry might be just around the corner, ready to attack him again.

"Well, you two sit together at meals and we know you're not in the dungeons anymore, so you must know where Harry is."

"I know where he lives now, but there is no way I'm telling someone like you," Draco spat, turning around to leave.

"Wait," Ron said quickly. "I just want to apologise to him. That stuff I said about Hermione was out of line."

"Yes, it was out of line!" Draco suddenly shouted. "In fact your behaviour towards him all year has been out of line. Do you honestly think it is somehow his fault that you got hurt? Did he force you to go along with him to the ministry? Or any of your other little adventures?"

Ron had the decency to look guilty. The sight only made Draco more furious. Harry trust Ron and Hermione beyond anyone else. He may have kept things from them but they wouldn't even _touch_ him, not even to reassure him.

"You abandoned him just when he needed his friends the most! And now you think an apology will get you back into his good books?"

"Where the hell do you get off acting like you know him?!" Ron said in outrage, face crimson from embarrassment.

"I think I know him a hell of a lot better than you do. I _understand_ him, and that is something neither you, nor Hermione, nor anyone else in that fucking tower could ever do. Think long and hard over whether you even deserve to be _looked _at by him, before you think about talking to him. I suggest you don't get high and mighty around me either, since obviously I haven't broken the trust he has given me."

Draco stormed off without waiting for a reply. He knew he shouldn't assume how Harry would react but he couldn't just tell Weasley where he was. Draco wandered aimlessly before heading back to his rooms, making sure no one was following as he did.

---

Draco sat at the end of Harry's bed in the dark while Harry sat against the headboards. It was another 'Voldemort Episode' as Draco called them. Draco didn't miss how Harry had called out his name between gasps of pain. It seemed Voldemort was already filling Harry's head with visions of what he would do to him.

"Are you going to tell me?" Draco asked.

"No," Harry murmured softly. He never did talk about what he saw, nightmare or Voldemort Episode. That damned pride.

"Are you going to distance yourself from me under the impression it will save me?"

Harry looked away. Draco realised that it wasn't fair of him to say that but he couldn't take it back. Harry crawled over to him and reached out, gently stroking Draco's arm with a finger while looking down, unable to meet his eye. Draco watched him wordlessly.

"Do you want me to?" he asked softly. "He will kill you, like he did Hermione. There is no escaping him. I won't blame you if you stay away from me."

"No, I don't want you to push me away, it won't solve anything. Besides, I won't let you go back to being alone."

"Or yourself," Harry said quietly, still not looking at Draco.

Draco didn't reply, he didn't know how. Harry was still staring at where he was touching Draco's skin, as if he was learning all he needed to know from that touch. Harry seemed to realise Draco also didn't want to be alone again, but he had never been as alone as Harry. No one would ever be as alone as Harry, save for Voldemort, who could never love, or trust.

"That's why you touch me, isn't it? To reassure yourself that I'm really here," Harry asked.

Draco looked up at Harry but Harry hadn't looked at him while he spoke. That was why Harry was touching him, he realised. Harry was making sure Draco was real, that he was there, that it wasn't another dream that would turn into a nightmare, that it wasn't a vision from Voldemort. He reached out and touched Harry's shoulder, causing him to turn.

"I'm here, Harry, and I'm not leaving."

* * *

For anyone who thinks this is going nowhere, it does have a plot (besides the relationship), it's just something that isn't going to happen at once. Sorry if that is putting people off.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N:Hi all, sorry I took so long. This chap is a little more light hearted than the others. It's getting somewhere now, or at least the next chap is lol sorry it seems so pointless sometimes.

Anyway, enjoy and R&R please. (and thanks to those who have been doing so!)

Chapter 5

"Those nasty, underhanded, backstabbing, cowardly, conniving little bastards!"

Draco had to admit seeing Harry pace and spit out infantile insults did have an amusing side to it, if only the situation wasn't so serious. Harry was dangerous when he was angry. His magic often lashed out without his command when he lost control of his emotions, more so lately.

"Honestly, Harry, it's alright," Draco said, eyes following Harry back and forwards before the infirmary bed he was in.

"Alright?!" Harry came to a stumbling halt. "Alright?!! They beat the crap out of you! They used to be your friends!" he spluttered, disbelievingly.

Draco raised an eyebrow, the expression nearly lost by the bloodiness of his face. "They're Slytherins."

Harry looked outraged. "They beat the crap out of you!"

Draco rolled his eyes, there was no talking to Harry when he was in a righteous rage. It wasn't like Draco hadn't expected the Slytherin's to ambush him sometime. In fact he thought he got off quite well, only he wasn't stupid enough to say that to Harry when he was like that. At least they hadn't used their wands, or he really would've be in trouble.

"I'll get them, one by one if I have to...slimy little bastards," Harry was muttering to himself.

Draco rolled his eyes yet again, he'd quite forgotten how defensive Harry was over his friends. He felt a small swell of pride over the fact that Harry was now his friend, trusting him and defending him, even if in a highly amusing way.

"Harry, you can't retaliate, they didn't do anything to you," he reminded Harry.

Harry looked at him, completely gobsmacked. "_They beat the crap out of you!_"

Draco bit back a sigh and forced himself to refrain from rolling his eyes again. He could see why Harry had been friends with Weasley; both stubborn and hot-headed. Harry had been very thoughtful after Draco had told him about his run in with Ron. He hoped Harry wasn't stupid enough to trust the Weasel again. Luckily Harry thought Draco's words had been the right things to say. If he was cautious about Weasley, why couldn't he be more cautious about the Slytherins?

"Mr. Potter," shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Please cease your ridiculous shouting; I have patients here who need rest. If you cannot calm down then get out!"

Harry froze all movement and stared at her in shock. Draco had to bite back a laugh when he saw Harry was about to start yelling at her too. He quickly grabbed Harry's arm and yanked him into the chair by the bed before he could. He instantly stroked the inside of Harry's wrist, knowing that it was a fast way of calming him down.

"Calm down, Harry," he said sternly. "I am fine, nearly out of here in fact. You can't go after them so soon, it's too obvious. I'm a Slytherin, I will tell you when an adequate amount of time has passed, okay?"

Harry seemed to deflate and shot Draco a sheepish look. At least he has the decency to know he was a little over the top, Draco thought with a smile. Harry glanced around and relaxed slightly.

"It's just, they hurt you, Draco, and I wasn't there," he said quietly. "I don't like seeing my friends get hurt, and I hate not being there to help, but being the cause."

"I know, Harry," Draco sighed. "I know."

---

Dinner that night was interesting. Harry glared at the Slytherin table the entire time, stabbing his food with excessive force. Draco also heard him mutter under his breath time to time and wondered if Harry used to behave like that over his pranks against Harry too. Of course Draco was pissed off as well, the Slytherins were busy boasting about beating the crap out of him at the top of their voices, elaborating horribly as well. Draco was immensely glad that his back was to them, he didn't know if he could endure seeing all of that, hearing it was bad enough.

Glancing down the Gryffindor table, Draco saw that Ron was watching Harry. Try as he might, Draco could not identify Ron's expression. It was something between guilt, regret, longing and loathing. Draco wasn't sure he even wanted to know what they combined to make. Harry, however, was oblivious, too busy glaring at the Slytherins, silently defending Draco.

This was what Draco had always wanted, a friend who actually cared enough to defend him. A friend willing to give anything for his happiness. After years of longing for Harry's friendship, he finally had it. He smiled softly to himself and when he looked up again, Harry was smiling back

A silence descended on the hall a few minutes later. Harry looked past Draco, his eyes fixed on something, his expression was calculating, with a dangerous edge. Draco turned to see that Millicent was walking over from the Slytherin table. He wanted to run, he knew he wouldn't be able to bear having her do something nasty to him on behalf of her house, he had trusted her.

Out of the corner of his eyes Draco saw Harry reach to lay a hand on his wand, just in case. He wanted to do the same but he knew he could never bring himself to hurt Millie. When she reached the table she glanced a round a little, looking nervous and turned back to them.

"Potter," she said with a nod of greeting, her voice low enough so that only they would hear what she had to say. "Draco, I just want you to know I had nothing to do with any of that," she said, jerking her head towards the Slytherin table. "I swear I knew nothing about it, if I had I would have warned you. I don't expect you to trust me, we're both from Slytherin after all. But know I'm on your side, through anything and I'll warn you if I hear of anything. Put a mask on, Potter, you too."

After finishing her little speech, she abruptly turned about and sauntered back over to Slytherin, a self-satisfied smirk gracing her face.

Draco stared after her with his mouth hanging open, forcing a subtle look of hurt onto his face too; that was both incredibly brave and stupid of her, but at the same time it was smart. His shocked expression would make it look like nasty words had been spoken, that his trust had been broken. He turned and glanced at Harry before rising and leaving in a hurry, to further the illusion that she had said something hurtful. This was just what he needed in the face of Slytherin plots, a spy on the inside. Hurried footsteps showed that Harry was following. Draco hoped he threw a glare at Millie for good measure.

---

Later that night, Harry and Draco were studying in Harry's library, which was fast becoming over-crowded with books on combat. Draco was simply studying transfiguration, which he hated. Looking around the book shelves he tried to find a more interesting book to read, and found himself missing the dark magic books of his father's library.

While he did no dark magic himself, or at least none that harmed anyone, he still liked to read about it. After all, dark magic was only dark because it was so complex that many didn't really understand what it did, and just labelled it dark because they couldn't do it or label it. Although there was no doubting many dark spells were indeed dark.

"I don't suppose you have any books on dark magic?" Draco asked, instead of looking harder.

Harry looked up from the book he was reading and gave him a calculating stare. Seeming to come to a conclusion he wordlessly flicked his wand towards the bookshelves and went back to his book.

Draco jumped as the shelves started creaking and then sliding away from each other to reveal a smaller set of shelves imbedded in the wall. He cast Harry a look of deep respect before quickly choosing a book to read. He was glad Harry didn't carry Dumbledore's black and white view of light and dark magic.

Draco's gaze paused on a book titled '_Demons within; the advantages of demonic possession._' Draco's eyes widened with the realisation of why Harry would have such a book. He then sighed in relief as he noticed it had not been read. Dark books always changed when they were read, and they had a distinct aura when they had not been read, a magnetic pull.

"Where do you get these from?"

"I stole a few from Filch, brought a few here and there. I'm planning on going to Knockturn Ally soon to get some more. I need a couple on structural possession. I'm thinking of turning the lounge into a Room of Requirement," Harry replied vaguely.

"The Room of Requirement is possessed?"

"Of course," Harry said, abandoning his book and turning to face him. "How did you think it did all that?"

"Magic," Draco shrugged.

"It's possessed by one of the first headmasters. Because of his love for the school his ghost 'bonded' with the walls of one room and now his ghostly energy can change the structure and properties of that room. And he was very good at legilimancy so he knows what students want," Harry explained.

Draco stared at him in horror, "You mean there's a wrinkly old man watching what people do in there and hearing their thoughts?"

Harry rolled his eyes, as if what he was about to say was so obvious.

"No, he ceased consciousness a long time ago. When someone possesses an object for too long they slowly become it. It's just like the basis of living transfiguration, transfigure someone into an animal and the longer they stay that way the more like the animal they become."

Draco sighed, more transfiguration. He really should continue studying that but Harry had just created a decent distraction.

"Why would you want your own room of requirement? There's a perfectly good one already here."

"I need one for training and ever since that fiasco last year," here Harry's expression darkened, "Dumbledore has been monitoring the activity within the room, not that I couldn't shake his spells. I'd just rather go about my business without that kind of worry."

Draco shook his head in wonder at Harry. Able to notice Dumbledore's probably most secretive spells and also able to shake them off? Even saying it without arrogance? Draco was beginning to understand just how powerful Harry really was. It was also becoming obvious that Harry and Dumbledore's relationship had deteriorated and now Draco was desperate to find out why.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, I'm kind of really unsure about this chapter. I hope it's understandable. Let me all know what you think, please?

Chapter 6

Harry and Draco were walking to class the next day, heads together, laughing at a joke Draco had made, when they ran into a group of Slytherins. Harry instantly drew his wand and was already forming a spell in his mind when Draco pushed his hand down; none of the Slytherins had drawn their wands.

Draco recognised the group as the only neutral Slytherins in the whole house. They were often abused by the rest of their housemates, Draco was ashamed that he had once cursed a few of them and didn't even know any of their names. They stared at him for a while, then at Harry, who still had his wand at his side, knuckles white from gripping it so tightly and face tense in obvious rage.

A subtle sweep of the area found Ron watching from a few metres away and Draco began to think he had been following them, as he remembered spotting Ron a few times already that day. Draco folded his arms and stared down the leader of the group until she finally began to talk, although it was probably more to do with Harry's intimidation than Draco's.

"We were wondering if you were going to teach Defence outside of class again this year, Potter, are you?" she asked quietly.

Draco saw Harry was about to snap something undiplomatic and nudged him with his elbow. Harry hesitated then stayed silent so he could reign in his temper. When he finally did talk he let the anger in him feed on their crushed hope rather than let it out with unwise words. Draco could see this with a small shred of amusement, small because he knew these particular Slytherins probably didn't deserve any hate.

"No, I'm not. Ask around the older students if you want tutoring."

"Anyone else would be inadequate to the task," she replied, not seeming to understand just how close he was to snapping.

"I said no, I wouldn't teach scum like you even if I was, now bugger off before I make you!" Harry snapped, raising his wand arm again.

Wordlessly, Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm and lowered it again, without even glancing at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the girl, telling her without words, just how stupid she was if she stayed. After a few moments of staring between Harry and Draco, she nodded and walked away.

"They're neutral, you know," Draco said conversationally.

"They're still in Slytherin," Harry forced out through a clenched jaw.

"That is incredibly narrow-minded of you," Draco commented. "I expected better."

Harry gave Draco a glare, but there was underlying respect it, after all, who had ever been so honest with The Boy Who Lived? He put his wand away, shook away his frustration and continued on to class, Draco trailing behind, keeping an eye on Ron.

Harry rubbed the spot on his hand that Draco had touched distractedly. He was getting quite unnerved by how easily Draco could calm him, with just a simple touch. He would think it just to be some kind of trust between them but he remembered how he felt when he touched Draco. It often felt like he could read Draco's energy levels and change his energy's destination, so less energy was expended on things like anger or sadness. This was all absurd since energy couldn't go towards a feeling, he was sure of that. And yet when Harry was angry he often felt like he was drawing energy towards his emotions, charging them up.

Harry glanced at Draco, wondering if Draco was somehow doing it on purpose. However the blonde boy never seemed to think his touch was actually calming Harry down any other way than just being a comforting touch. Harry sighed and tried to restart the previous conversation. If he wanted to figure it all out, he would have to experiment.

---

Harry had another 'Voldemort Episode' that night but was dragged from the horror into comfort, cradled in Draco's arms, his fingers drifting over Harry's scar like a ghost. Harry craned his neck to look at Draco's face to see that he was staring off unseeingly.

"Draco?"

He didn't seem to respond and it was starting to worry Harry after a few minutes. He carefully found Draco's other hand and wrapped his own around it, closed his eyes, and tried to find Draco's emotions.

Harry had no idea whether or not what he planned on doing was even possible but he soon found out it was. As soon as he opened his mind and sought out Draco's feelings, he found them. They drifted past and through him, like ghosts.

Harry nearly drowned in the sorrow that was hovering around Draco's outer consciousness. It took him a few seconds to realise that this sorrow was from seeing Harry in distress, and knowing that even though he stopped it, it would simply happen again. Harry nearly lost his concentration when he felt all this so clearly, it was almost like hearing Draco's own thoughts.

Firmly, he pushed this feeling away, sifting through the other emotions, closer to Draco's emotional core, which was blacker than any darkness Harry had ever seen. The feelings got darker as he went deeper. After a while he could no longer recognise the emotions, they were completely foreign to him. Already he had gone through so many forms or rage, hopelessness and grief. Jealousy and burnt pride had such a strong scent of Harry himself that he steered clear of them altogether, knowing they were the past that Draco couldn't quite let go of yet, but hid so very well.

Closer to the centre of the thick viscous darkness built of buried emotions, there was something flickering. Harry moved towards it, forcing his consciousness to remain there, even though the emotions he passed through were slowly driving him insane. Shivering, crying, screaming and bleeding from his soul, Harry moved closer to a barely flickering light, a new feeling being discovered. Draco's emotions were damaging him, fighting him.

Harry nearly fell back to reality when he realised the emotions around him weren't trying to hurt him, they were trying to hurt the new feeling and harming him simply because he was close. He held back, watching the light grow and then be ripped to shreds by a darker emotion. First it was doubt, not so dark, then hate, anger, jealousy, and then the emotions so dark Harry could not give them a name, nor pass through them unharmed. Desperate for that tiny feeling to grow and banish the darkness, Harry called out, forgetting where he was.

"Draco, hold on!o"

Instantly the light flared so bright it blinded him and the dark emotions fled from it, right through him, ripping him to shreds with their sheer strength.

He was instantly back in his own body, back in reality. There were tears streaming down his face in torrents, he was shaking uncontrollably and his heart was racing. Draco was no longer unresponsive. He gently stroked away the tears, turning Harry's face towards him, tilting it upwards so he could see his face.

"The dream did not do this to you," he murmured quietly, half a question but still very sure of himself.

Harry stared at Draco in terror. He had begun to believe he knew the boy. Now he knew that he had barely touched the surface. He had no idea Draco was so unhappy, so dark inside. Devoid of light.

He frowned, but there was that newly developing light, what had that feeling been, that was attacked by the dark, but caused them to flee when it became stronger? What was vulnerable when new but so strong in greater amount, without changing the fundamental structure of the feeling itself? Without adapting and moulding to external influences.

"Harry, what's wrong. What made you feel like this?" Draco asked, still gently wiping away the tears, holding him carefully, as though he might break. Like he was the most fragile, precious thing he had ever touched.

The light flashed again behind Harry's eyes.

"It was love," he murmured softly.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has commented, you guys really make my life better! I'm sorry my chapters are so short, I tried to make this one longer for you but I don't know whether it got worse or not after the natural ending point.

Major warning: I was in a REALLY melodramatic mood when I was writing this, although technically all the chapters are slightly (or a lot) melodramatic, this one takes the cake, I think I have a thing for public melodrama that completely obliterates the characters' privacy.

Anyway, I abused the caps lock and disjointed sentences a little, you've been warned.

* * *

Chapter 7

It was love, and he had influenced it. He had given it strength so that Draco's darker feelings could not destroy it. He'd actually controlled some of Draco's emotions, near the outer edge before going deeper, too. Draco was beginning to love him, because this emotion carried a stronger scent of Harry than any other emotion he had touched, and Harry had encouraged that emotion. And Draco was still touching Harry.

Harry shifted and pulled himself out of Draco's arms, suddenly wondering why he was even there to begin with, when it took such a small amount of time for Draco to drag him out of Voldemort's grip. He wanted to ask Draco but didn't know how to say it without sounding awkward. Draco's hand was still in his though, and Draco seemed to sense this question.

"You wouldn't come out of it," he said sadly. "I called you for so long but you never woke up. It just went on and on."

Harry frowned at how haunted he sounded and struggled to remember what that encounter with Voldemort had been about, but already it receding into the fog of all the other encounters he could not remember.

"It's okay though, you're awake now," Draco said quickly, as if sensing Harry's frustration over not remembering.

Harry wondered then if he could not only understand and influence other people's emotions through skin contact, but also let others see his. It was certainly true that all the times Draco knew touching Harry would calm him down were times Harry was hoping he would do just that. Harry had often, now that he really thought about it, been able to read someone's prominent emotions through some form of skin contact, although he had not been subjected to it often enough for him to really comprehend this.

He looked down at where his hand was still covering Draco's. "What am I feeling, Draco?" he asked, looking up, guarding his eyes and his emotions.

Draco glanced at him briefly in confusion but looked down at their hands and tried to answer. Harry felt something and abruptly broke the skin contact. Draco could obviously also read his emotions too.

"Harry," Draco said cautiously, "What is this about?"

Harry closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. He was overreacting and panicking over nothing. Not everyone could do that, no one else could so easily enter his mind. He highly doubted Draco could do it to anyone else either, or he would have exploited it during the time where he had been nothing but a bully. But if he could now, then something had changed.

_Once touched, forever changed._

He remembered reading about bonds once. In every ceremony there was a brief, or lengthy, depending on the type of bond, period of direct skin contact to finalise the bond, usually downplayed until barely anyone knew the significance of the touch. If this was some sort of bond, then who had started it, Draco, or Harry? And when had it started?

---

For a long time that night, Draco and Harry had sat staring at each other, Draco completely nonplussed and Harry deeply thoughtful. Harry did not tell Draco his suspicions and when dawn broke, they went their separate ways to carry out their day.

Draco didn't push the subject, only because he was still reeling from his emotional discovery. Realising he was falling for his one-time enemy was an earth shattering event for him. He was also wary. After he had broken out of his daze, he had found Harry shaking and crying, all the while feeling as if something was worming its way into his mind. Having Harry ask him to guess his feelings after this was worrying.

He didn't really want to believe Harry had any way of reading Draco's emotions but ever since he had been getting close to Harry he had been feeling as if he could sometimes do just that. Harry was very closed off but Draco had often been able to sense, through skin contact, what Harry needed the most, usually it was comfort, other times it was space. He tended to ignore the latter though.

Not knowing that Harry was pondering the same thing, he began wondering when it had all started. He knew that he had not been able to read other's feelings before Harry. Unlike Harry, however, he knew when it started. Dumbledore's office.

_Draco reached out and gently shifted Harry's hair away from his forehead to look at the scar. It was no longer bleeding but it looked red and angry. Draco still found it hard to believe that people judged Harry by the scar on his head, rather than his heart. No one cared what kind of person Harry really was, they only cared whether he would live up to his scar's legend and kill Voldemort permanently. If he still had the scar, then he was still a hero to them._

_When Draco looked back at Harry's face he realised Harry was awake, and watching him curiously. He pulled his hand back but didn't move. Harry looked so vulnerable it almost brought Draco, the Slytherin Ice Prince, to tears. Draco was half expecting Harry to yell at him for daring to touch him but he didn't. It was almost as if Draco's touch had been calming him. Draco gently ran his finger down Harry's face and wondered if anyone ever even touched him anymore, or if anyone ever had to begin with._

During those brief seconds of skin contact, it was as if Harry had opened a gate. It was like he had let Draco in, sensing no ill feelings. From then on, Draco had known when Harry had needed comfort, and had been able to, at least to a certain extent, dampen the emotions that caused him stress; to calm him down.

Harry seemed to have realised this, but also something else. If he had successfully read into Draco's emotions, and reached his emotional core, as it had felt like, then Harry knew more about Draco that anyone else, and Draco was genuinely astonished that he had not tried to force Draco to stay away from him, or even petition Dumbledore to kick him out. There were many dark emotions lurking within Draco that he had not found the strength to remove.

Draco looked over at Harry. They were in Transfigurations, Harry was, for once, not seated next to him, but a few desks over. Draco had been hurt at first, but after he began thinking he realised Harry was doing just the same, _thinking_, and he needed to be away from Draco to do that.

It was clear by the occasional glance from another student, or the hushed conversations, that it blaringly obvious something had happened. Ron Weasley barely took his eyes off them. Draco was nearing the edge of his patience with that boy, there was something about him that just didn't seem right to Draco. He was always watching them.

As Draco continued to stare at Harry, the other boy turned around and locked eyes with him. Everything seemed to stop, and Draco felt Harry penetrate his mind again, reading his emotions. He tried to do the same, but only ended up on the surface, skimming over boredom, frustration, and fear. He left Harry's mind, not seeing the point in staying longer.

His eyes were still locked with Harry's but from the corners he could see Harry begin to tremble. It was clearer to him now than it had been last night, Draco's emotions were attacking Harry. But the other boy did not seem even close to slowing his advance towards Draco's emotional core. He was testing this ability of his, but it was seriously damaging him.

"Stop, Harry! This isn't the time or the place!" Draco said sharply, unable to break the eye contact or move. "Don't go any further!"

Harry didn't respond and Draco began to panic. They were causing another scene. Draco really didn't want to be blamed for Harry's condition and he really didn't want Ron knowing about this. He retreated into his core, his eyes glazing over, and attempted to push Harry out. He was jerked out of his daze when Harry actually cried out in pain.

"You're going to get yourself killed, did last night teach you nothing? Stop!" Draco shouted.

Professor McGonagall rushed over to Harry but as soon as she lay a hand on him she jumped back, doubling over and gasping as if in pain. Draco forced his hands to move, clutching his head and trying again to push Harry out.

"Harry, stop, please," he begged. In desperation he even tried to shut down his emotions so they could no longer hurt him, but he couldn't even sense his own emotions now. "They're hurting you, I can't stop them."

"I need to see, I need to know," Harry mumbled, clearly in pain.

"What's going on, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall asked, watching Harry warily and motioning the other students behind her.

"Know what, Harry?" Draco asked, trying to force his body to move but failing to do anything more than move his arms. "Just ask me!"

"He said...love...is a weapon...I...need to...know...if I can...use it instead...of Voldemort using...it...against me," Harry gasped out before he let out a sharp intake of breath at the same time as Draco, having reached his core.

Harry sighed, "Let's see if it hurts him."

Draco's eyes widened and he finally broke free, already rushing towards Harry.

"No!" he yelled.

Harry's eyes flashed red, still lost in Draco's core. He started screaming before Draco reached him. There was no mistaking the screams, they were too high to be Harry's. It was Voldemort. Draco halted all movement, clutching his chest.

"Oh, God, Harry, what have you done?"

He fell to his knees, feeling a darkness even worse than his own curl itself around his core. His emotions tried to fight it, but it simply absorbed everything he threw at it. If only he had something light, but something that could hurt. All he had was love, and that could do nothing.

His eyes were still locked with Harry's, only they weren't Harry's anymore. Voldemort could see him, Voldemort was _within_ him.

"Get him out, get him out, get him out..." Draco began muttering, scratching at his chest, drowning in the Dark Lord. "Voldemort! Let him go, get out of me!" Draco's voice rose to hysterical screaming.

Someone hit him with a spell but it rebounded right at Harry. Harry went down and the connection was broken. Voldemort was thrown from his core. Draco rushed to his feet and stumbled over to Harry, the spell had apparently knocked him back but done nothing else.

Draco eyed the scar, it was looking normal, so were Harry's eyes, as they stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. Draco heard the Professor walk over but held up a hand and before she talked, told her to shut up. He ghosted his hand over Harry's face and under his eyes.

"Where are you Harry?" he murmured. "Come, back."

It seemed Harry was at least a little conscious to the outside world as his eyes focused and turned to look at him. A small smile graced his lips as he gazed dazedly at Draco.

"You hurt him, it worked."

"You're okay?" Draco asked slowly.

Harry frowned and sat up, swaying a little but otherwise fine.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I wonder," Draco said, trying to stay calm but failing. "Maybe the fact you just SUMMOND VOLDEMORT AND LET HIM INTO YOUR HEAD WHILE YOU WERE INSIDE MY MIND?!"

"Draco-"

"DON'T 'DRACO' ME!" Draco yelled, completely overtaken by anger and fear. "FIRST YOU VIOLATE MY PRIVACY BY READING MY EMOTIONS, THEN YOU BRING THAT MONSTER RIGHT INTO MY EMOTIONAL CORE WHERE HE COULD HAVE KILLED ME WITH BARELY ANY EFFORT AT ALL. I DON'T KNOW HOW THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING IT BUT I DESERVE SOME FUCKING EMOTIONAL PRIVACY!"

"Draco, please-"

"YOU LET A _MONSTER_ THAT HAS BEEN TRYING TO KILL YOU SINCE YOU WERE BORN INTO YOUR MIND, NO, YOU _PULLED_ HIM INTO YOUR MIND, GIVING HIM FREE REIGN AND EXPECTING ME TO FIGHT HIM OFF?! ALL FOR A FUCKING EXPERIMENT INTO EMOTIONAL WARFARE?!"

"Emotional warfare?"

"Fuck, Harry, my emotions nearly killed you before you even got close to the core! You...you fucking...RECKLESS...SELFISH BASTARD! I know you're angry at me for still being evil on the inside, but-"

Draco was abruptly cut off midsentence. He soundlessly mouthed words before glaring at Harry in stony silence. Harry lowered his wand and glanced uneasily at the silent audience. He knew he had made an awful mistake by trying a new way of entering Draco's emotions in public. And an even bigger mistake in summoning Voldemort to him.

But it had worked. Voldemort had been severely injured by the love in Draco's emotional core. He'd found a way to hurt Voldemort, a way Voldemort couldn't stop. It wasn't Legilimancy so Voldemort couldn't block it, he wasn't accustomed to anyone attempting to enter his emotional 'being'. He probably believed he no longer had an emotional being.

"This isn't a conversation to be had in public," Harry commented before walking over to Draco, who had been backing away while shouting.

Harry placed the pad of a finger against Draco's forehead, instantly neutralising his anger and fear, calming him down. Watching Draco's face relax he took of the silencing charm.

"I don't like you manipulating my emotions like that," Draco commented calmly. "I want to be angry, I have a right to be angry. You have no right to kill my anger."

"You're not evil on the inside, Draco, you have dark emotions from your past but a core full of light, you're not evil, or you wouldn't have hurt him. Go to our rooms, please, I'll come talk to you soon."

Harry turned without waiting for a reply and addressed Professor McGonagall next.

"I need to see Dumbledore, Voldemort is in a coma."

* * *

A/N: I really wanted to thank .you as well for reading this and taking the time to comment so many times and give me so much feedback, I really enjoyed hearing your views!!

And I also want to thank Clover-night for being curious about Draco's darkness (and the review itself obviously) because that reminded me that I really need to decide what caused his darkness lol cos I'm writing and planning this as I go people! I might think of something and put it in the next chapter. It might take a while, my life is hectic right now, and I'm having problems with my internet access.

Anyway R&R makes me really happy! It also makes me try harder! (was this still too short btw? let me know please!)


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"A coma? Magical or muggle?"

"I already told you that I don't know, all I know is that he has ceased consciousness and appears to be trapped in his emotional being."

Dumbledore stared at Harry for a while, as if trying to get a confession from him like he used too, like Harry still respected Dumbledore enough to fall for that, like there was anything he was hiding anyway.

It had already taken long enough just explaining the strange new ability he had, explaining how he had used it to hurt Voldemort had been nearly impossible.

"Is Mr. Malfoy alright?" Dumbledore turned away as he asked and Harry had the overwhelming urge to throttle him.

"He seemed fine, what are we going to do about Voldemort?"

"What can we do?" Dumbledore kept his back to Harry as he talked. "We don't know where he is or even if this statement of yours is true, we cannot risk sending you out to do your final duty until we know for sure."

"Of course, you can never risk me but everyone else can die and it doesn't matter, as long as no one risks the tool!"

Dumbledore turned, perhaps to use his silent, comforting, but subtly judging, stare to get Harry to feel as though he had to take back what he had said but Harry was already walking out of the office. He held the door open next to him for a few seconds before walking away and slamming it behind him.

----

Harry sent out a wave of emotion as he began walking back to his rooms, Draco responded immediately by placing an invisible hand on the small of his back, and although it wasn't skin contact, it was enough for now. It seemed that through mere thoughtlessness he was finding new limits for his ability with emotions, even though he knew nothing about it.

What he needed to do was test out the ability on someone other than Draco, just to confirm whether or not it was only with him. And yet there was no time. Voldemort was defenceless and Dumbledore was doing nothing, as usual. Harry wasn't about to sit around and let the adults sacrifice innocents when he could be doing something about the situation.

It didn't surprise Harry that Draco had followed with his invisibility cloak. It was really Draco that put Voldemort into the coma, Harry was just the director of the incident. He had finally found a way to kill Voldemort and Dumbledore was refusing to cooperate. Harry's frustration was near breaking point, he wasn't going to wait, he was going to act.

---

Draco sat in silence next to Harry as he lay unconscious in his bed. He wasn't allowed to touch Harry while he was inside Voldemort's head. He didn't approve for a second, but he understood. Harry needed to find Voldemort and the only way he could by himself was to go into Voldemort's mind. Of course Voldemort was far darker than Draco and Harry was in a pitiful state.

Draco longed to reach out and comfort him but he was forbidden to touch. Harry was shaking uncontrollably and crying out on every breath. Tears rolled continuously down his face. He was in physical and mental pain, and Draco wasn't allowed to touch. All he could do was wait.

When Harry finally withdrew from Voldemort's emotional being he hadn't even made it a fifth of the way to the core. He dragged himself into a sitting position before leaning forward into Draco. For a long time he was still shaking and shivering, crying and groaning from pain. Draco just held him and forced himself to not remember that he loved Harry, because remembering that made the experience so much harder to bear.

When Harry's body finally ceased to tremble and ache he pulled himself out of Draco's embrace, fully prepared to try again. Draco snapped. He forgot that he shouldn't touch Harry's chin and did it anyway, pulling Harry's head up to meet his gaze. He could feel the fear flare up within Harry but pulverised it before it could make him act. He made sure Harry was looking him in the eye before he talked.

"You are not going back there. You have tried once at full strength, this state you are in will not be of any help. Try tomorrow, but don't you dare try now!"

"I have to do somet-" Harry started before Draco shushed him.

"Not tonight, rest, try again tomorrow, I'm not going to let you do that to yourself again," he murmured.

Draco began wiping the tears away with the edge of his sleeve while Harry kept summoning emotions to fuel his protest, and Draco shot down every one of them.

Long after the tears were gone, Draco was still stroking Harry's face. The contact was soothing the other boy and lulling him into a much more secure mental state. Draco trailed his fingertips over the scar again, grateful that it was not hurting him. As his fingertips trailed down Harry's face they unsurprisingly found his lips, and it just seemed so natural for his lips to follow them.

Many emotions sparked beneath their lips as they moved like gentle caresses. Neither boy really stopped to think about it, their skin was touching, touching in a way that comforted and _worshiped_ the other to the point of being unaware of anything else, nothing was wrong.

Harry hesitantly trailed his lips over Draco's jaw, breaking the kiss that had seemed to go on forever. Draco's skin was like an invisible map, every patch of skin he kissed uncovered another marker, another emotion.

Draco's hand caressed the nape of Harry's neck before disappearing in his hair and gripping tightly as Harry's lips found a marker on his neck that tasted of lust. One gentle kiss, light nibble, upon this spot had Draco's breathing increase and his skin heat up and sing with love and lust.

Their lips met again, desperate and curious. No emotion was hidden from the other and the experience was magnified by the feel of gentle lust sparking under their lips and tongues. Neither wanted to end the moment, but both moved apart at the same time anyway, perfectly tuned to the other's emotions.

Harry gently grasped Draco's wrist and dragged him down until they were lying together. He curled up against Draco, hitching up his shirt until he was touching bare skin, and then settled down to sleep. Draco seemed a little shocked at the new state of things but Harry sent calm through his hand and Draco soon relaxed. He followed suit and slipped a hand under Harry's shirt to rest on his side, and then drifted off to sleep.

---

Harry woke in such a state of calm that he thought, momentarily, he had died and gone to some kind of heaven. There was not a single hint of discomfort anywhere in his body, which was so unusual for him upon waking. Without needing to think, he knew Draco felt the same. He was still touching Draco's bare skin, and so could feel every emotion. It made him wonder whether the calm was his emotion or Draco's, or both combined to the point where it was unbelievably strong.

He didn't want to get up and go to class. He wanted to stay in bed all day and bask in the happy feelings Draco was discovering. Where Draco's emotions had been nearly all dark, he now had a multitude of light emotions swirling around the surface and even a lot deeper. Harry knew without going deeper that love was still the only light emotion able to survive in Draco's emotional core, but this did not upset him or change the way he acted around Draco.

Harry raised himself up onto his side and leaned on an elbow while gently tracing his fingertips over Draco's face. He didn't want to wake him up but if they didn't leave soon they would be late. Draco peeked through an eye and groaned his disagreement with the time and what it meant. Harry smiled and leaned over, planting a kiss on Draco's pout before dragging himself out of bed.

Draco woke up in an instant, as if he had thought the night before had been a dream. Harry knew how he felt, but was comforted by the lack of regret or resentment flowing from Draco's skin. All it took were a few brief seconds for Harry to have an emotional blueprint of the surface. It took him much longer to get a reading of core emotions. Harry frowned to himself, he would have to work on that, he was sure the solution to violent emotions was right in front of him, but he just couldn't quite see it.

_---_

_Tom Riddle stared unemotionally at the swaying teenage girl in front of him. He detested the very sight of her and even more so, he detested her for her gift. This girl could see what was to come, she was speaking of the future to him and he could only hope she was speaking true._

_She was intelligent, but hid it well. She should have been in Slytherin, but knowing this did not lessen his disdain for her. She was claiming that she knew his future and he was, for appearances, humouring her and looking uninterested. Inside he was desperate for this information, regardless of his hate for her._

"_As I have said, you will become a God of this world. Only two shall have the power to kill you, one will be born in the month of July, son to a mother that has thrice defied you and he shall have a power that you do not know. The other is the son of a most faithful follower, and you will have many such followers. This second boy is unimportant, for he is the sword wielded by the other, and harmless to you alone."_

_Tom raised his eyebrow, she really was laying it on thick, and yet he was listening, he hadn't left yet._

"_And this power the dangerous one has?"_

"_He shall be a wielder of love, the brightest emotion of them all, and control them all he does also."_

_Ton frowned for a second before letting out a charismatic laugh that he put on for such occasions; they were not alone of course. A wielder of love, she was obviously out of her mind. And yet...._

"_Love? And why should this be a danger to me?"_

"_Your emotional core will be blacker than black, a writhing mass of hate and monstrosity. Having hurt him by using his own love against him many times, he will use the other boy's love against you, the light burning you to death. Do not trouble yourself over the second boy, he will be a powerful slave if kept from the other."_

"_So, let me get this straight; I must ensure that every boy born in July to an enemy of mine, who has directly defied me three times, dies? All so he cannot use love against me?" he let out another burst of laughter, causing a few of the girls present to swoon._

_In the prophet's defence, she did not swoon, but stared steadily at him, eyes calculating. Tom's laughter died in his throat and he felt a sudden respect for this girl, before this she had swooned along with the rest of them._

"_I'm not telling you to believe, me, I am only warning you," she said smoothly, not showing the barest hint of emotion._

"_Why do you want to warn me, Tavia?"_

_Something sparked in her eyes that had nothing to do with him acknowledging that she had a name, which he rarely did for anyone, something dark and monstrous, something akin to admiration and the look of a murder enjoying his first kill. It stilled his heart for a moment before a similar darkness responded, no doubt shining through his eyes to her. There was something within her that was also hidden deep within him._

"_You shall be great, ridding the world of mudblood and halfblood scum, you shall become a God, reigning over your new world."_

_Tom frowned again. That definitely didn't seem right, he himself was halfblood. Why would he wish to destroy others like himself? The girl was a pureblood, maybe she was making it all up. He would love to control the world, who wouldn't, and he definitely wouldn't object to spilling blood to attain the control, but the blood of his peers?_

"_Why would I-"_

"_Because you are the purest of us all, my Lord," she said with the grin of a predator, bowing low to him, but her eyes never once leaving his._

_Tom did not reply but motioned for those around him to leave. They gave him curious looks, finding her submission very odd indeed and only agreeing to leave because they did not wish to be cursed. Once they were gone he circled her, as she remained bowing. All of his previous opinions of her were gone, replaced by open curiosity. He would have believed it all to be a lie, if it had not been for the look in her eyes._

_Standing once again before her, he trailed a finger down her face, admiring her resolve when she did not even tremble. If he was to become this merciless God he would have to start then, and he had already found his first follower. Now all he needed was a name, but what would a God take as his name? For Tom Riddle was a joke and could not be taken seriously by anyone._

_He looked at Tavia thougtfully, perhaps a new name was hidden within her own, very strange, name. Tavialdreh Feomorthe Volderoth._

* * *

**Tavialdreh Feomorthe Volderoth**

Pronounced _Tav-e-l-dreh – Fee-oh-more-th – Vold-er-oth_

Yes....that is the stupidest name you have ever seen, but I really suck at making up names with hidden words. Also, her visions don't rule out Trelawny's from the actual books, that still happens.

I really wasn't planning on posting again so soon, in fact I didn't think I'd write another chapter for a while. It's shorter than the previous one but I really wanted to end it there. I only just wrote it today and I'm so curious as to what you all think that I'm posting it now. Although I really shouldn't have forced the romance like that, I really screwed it up I think.

**Please Review and let me know what you think!!! (Let me know in-depth people because I'm sure I just crossed a line with the Voldemort thing)**

**Also, anyone wanna venture a guess at the sentence that **Tavialdreh Feomorthe Volderoth m**akes? Rearrange the letters lol I wanna see if anyone gets it, should be fairly easy since you know Voldemort is in it.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Harry leaned heavily against the sink in his bathroom. While Draco was at a class Harry did not have, he had skipped his own to come to his rooms and try again to reach Voldemort's core and determine his location. His breath fogged the mirror every few seconds, the fight against Voldemort's emotions had raised his body temperature to dangerous levels, along with the other usual symptoms. Although he knew his arms were soon to give out, he stayed standing there, staring at his fogged reflection. A young face stared back at him. The world relied on him to defeat Voldemort. But he was so young. Although Dumbledore may not see it, this moment was the chance they needed, and that they might never again have. Harry didn't allow himself to wonder whether he could really do what was required of him, he just set about doing it.

The new ability he had discovered fit so perfectly to what Dumbledore had always told him, that his power against Voldemort was love, and yet Dumbledore was refusing to let him use that power. How could the old man stand by and let such a power go unused when every other method against Voldemort was failing?

Just has Harry's arms gave out, cool arms encircled his waist from behind and he was embraced and supported by a cold body. He let out another heated sigh and leaned his head back. Draco sent reassurances through his skin, so Harry would know he wasn't too mad, and then leaned his forehead against the side of Harry's bared neck, cooling it down. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hide the worry pouring through his skin. He'd never felt someone to have such a high temperature, but going to the hospital wing was useless, and if Dumbledore knew what Harry was doing...Draco didn't want to think about that.

They stood like that until Harry's temperature had fallen and he faded into a state of unawareness. Draco carefully led him to his bed. As soon as he was horizontal, Harry fell asleep. Draco stood staring at him for a few moments, sadly. He had felt Harry's emotions spike in the middle of class, spike with a darkness that Harry did not have; Draco had known at once what Harry was doing. He didn't know whether Harry really didn't realise his emotional being had called to Draco, or whether he had done so on purpose, although the secretive way in which he had arranged to try again suggested he had not known his emotions would call for aid.

Draco made sure Harry was asleep before leaving the room. Searching through Harry's library, and failing to find anything relevant, he left their rooms for the school library. He knew Harry would never give up, no matter how badly he was affected by this emotional warfare.

There wasn't much of a chance that he would find anything useful in the school library but he had to try. At the very least he was just looking for a way to ease the side effects after the emotional contact was broken. In his heart, he was looking for a way to end it all, a way to make a decisive blow against Voldemort, a way to penetrate through to his emotional core, bypassing his outer emotions. He doubted he would ever find written information on this, given that he'd never once heard of an ability like theirs before.

It was a hopeless cause, but driven by desperation; he just couldn't let Harry go through that again.

---

Ron watched Draco leave his rooms and felt a sickening feeling of success for finding where Harry was and disgust over the entire situation. He grimly followed Draco, intent of getting answers, either directly or indirectly.

---

_A small boy was thrown to the ground before the Dark Lord. He let out a small squeal of terror and pain before a silencing charm was cast on him. He was not yet six years old. Voldemort looked him over, cast two or three spells, and then turned to the woman standing silently next to him._

"_It's not him, is it?" he said quietly, so quietly only she could hear him, and his lips not giving his words away._

"_No, my Lord," she murmured just as softly._

_Voldemort flicked his wand at the boy, wordlessly casting the killing curse. The room flashed green and the woman standing next to him drew in a too-sharp inhalation. Voldemort glanced at her absently, noting the vacant look on her face, before turning back to the Death Eaters who had brought in the boy._

"_Well done, my servants, another child of the Light dead, another blow to those who oppose me. Leave us."_

_The Death Eaters obediently left the room, dragging the small corpse with them, until only Voldemort and the woman remained. She swayed a little before he motioned for her stand before him._

"_What did you see, Tavia?" he asked, almost gently._

"_The boy, my Lord," she replied, looking him in the eye, as so few now did._

"_You have more specific information about him?"_

_Tavia hesitated for a second, blinking. Voldemort was tiring of searching for a boy who had yet to be born, and having no idea when he would be born. She feared her end was nearing if she did not find the information immediately._

"_He will be born seven years from now, Lord. He will have eyes of death, a green that you cannot mistake."_

_Voldemort approached her slowly, gracefully, and then struck, backhanding her to the ground. She stayed perfectly still where she fell. She had seen it coming, but seeing the blow never lessened the impact. She deserved everything he did to her, she had failed to give him the information he wanted for far too long._

_Gone were the days she was worshiped alongside him. All but Tom himself had forgotten just how he came to power. Only a few now looked at her with recognition over her name, only one with respect. She lay still and tried to clear her mind, to find more information, but she had lost the majority of her abilities after meeting her master. She did not dare tell him this._

"_Seven years? And how many years have I wasted looking for this boy who can kill me?" he hissed. "Too many years, Tavialdreh, too many years."_

_Tavia turned herself over and lay there staring into his eyes. Voldemort's eyes were so hard to read, but the waves of emotion coming from them were not. He was afraid. She shared his fear, she did not want this child to kill him and her vision of the world. It was her vision before Voldemort's and he knew to fear what she did. There was a never ending circle of fear around them, and neither knew where it began. Sometimes she believed she had his trust also, only to have that thought shattered a few moments later with a pain-laced spell or a physical blow, always for the most insignificant annoyances. _

_She had to draw him back. She needed to make him trust her, as he once did. She was his seer, his maker. At one time she was his equal in power. They couldn't afford to divide, so she took everything he threw at her. They were doing so well in purging the world, they couldn't afford to stop. If he had lain in wait for the child, without acting, he would not have the control he did now. It was necessary, and so was the deception she was acting out every day. Every child murdered was indeed a blow to light, even if the child was not the threat._

"_You will not fail, Lord, as long as you have eyes on the future, how could you fall?"_

"_Through the stupidity of a girl, isn't that right, Tavialdreh?" Voldemort's voice, which had been seductively smooth, was now cold and biting._

_Tavialdreh's heart froze. _

"_You will destroy her, Tavia, do I make myself clear?" he hissed._

_Tavia lay frozen. Her mind was racing through every possibility, searching for how he had known. The only conclusion she came to was that he had finally excelled in Legilimancy to the point where she could no longer block him from her mind. She broke away from his gaze, wondering how many other premonitions he had seen in her mind, and how much he knew of her real plans. The girl was important, it would be detrimental to her plans to kill her if the boy was dead in time._

"_Yes, my Lord, I will destroy her before she can make that mistake," she murmured._

_No matter how hard it would be, killing on command was a part of Voldemort's service, and killing your own family, you were expected to know when that was necessary without being told. She should have done so long ago, perhaps he really didn't know. _

_She stared at him through her eyelashes, reading the emotions coming from his skin. Of course it was always hard to see past the anger, but once she saw through it she would know. If he showed any triumph at all, it meant she had confirmed a suspicion, not something he had already known. If he had truly not known of her plans, then she had ruined them herself._

"_Good, you will do so tomorrow. I have tolerated her presence till now, but after knowing what she will do, she cannot live."_

_Tavia hid the anger in her eyes. He had played her. There was triumph radiating from him. He did not know of her ability to read emotions, he never dampened them. In that moment she was disgusted by him. He really would use any excuse to kill those he had a grudge against, any excuse. What had this girl done? Nothing yet, and he had not known what she would do in the future, he still did not know the details, what reason did he have to kill her other than spite?_

_Tavia drew her eyes away from him, her certainty in his character fading. Perhaps he had not been the one to fulfil her dream, there was too much weakness in him, he craved revenge overly much, it would spoil everything._

"_Now then, what else have you been hiding from me," he spat, anger once again flaring._

_For hours he interrogated her. After tricking her into admitting that she kept things from him, he became so paranoid that it nearly overtook the anger. He became less and less satisfied with her answers until finally he simply penetrated her mind._

_Vision after vision was brought to the surface, very few of which she had told him of. As the visions kept coming she felt the anger once again flare to an extreme. That night, she knew she would be lucky to escape with her life._

_---_

_When Tavia was dismissed some few hours later she returned to her rooms and as soon as the door was shut she sank to the floor, shaking with sobs. She was slipping, too many mistakes, and now no defence for her visions. If she could not block him then he would see everything she saw. To maintain her position she needed to keep things secret until the right moment, and now that was impossible. Only by pure luck were the majority of visions in foreign languages he did not understand. The torture was bad, but she had been through worse, she grimly healed her wounds._

"_There are few of us who know who the Dark Lord used to be," came a cold drawl from the opposite side of her room._

_She started and had her wand on him in an instant. She did not relax when she recognised another member of Voldemort's inner circle. Lucius Malfoy, she had never trusted him._

"_Three different women have told me in the last two days that I will have a son in seven years, all with many authentic prophecies under their names. And yet you told me that if I married who I intended to marry, I would have only daughters, why?"_

_Tavia shuddered as another vision came upon her. She despised visions of the Malfoy boy, he was too insignificant to waste her eye on. Malfoy would no doubt kill her for the lie if she did not think of something. She could not tell him that it had been on Voldemort's orders that she had lied. Telling him that his son, with the instruction of another, could bring down his master was very bad. Information like that was dangerous when given to someone as ambitious as Malfoy. She was jolted from her thoughts as she was roughly thrust against the wall and held there by her neck._

"_We all do his bidding but we do not betray each other unless directly ordered. We are a brotherhood! You look out for his interests far more secretly than the rest of us, what are you hiding for him? Why are we really killing little boys? Why did you lie about my own future son?"_

_Tavia glared and held her breath, knowing it hurt less that way. Too many of them paid her visits like this, they were all punished, but Malfoy was the only one who was never caught. He let her go before he could leave a bruise._

"_Your name betrays him, Tavia, no Dark Lord should have a heart, choose your allegiances carefully, or he may just learn the truth of his little seer."_

_Malfoy left without further word and Tavia sighed, wishing he had left a mark on her skin that time so Voldemort would kill him for daring to touch his seer, though after that day it was doubtful he would care. She walked over to the bed and collapsed onto it. She couldn't go on like that. She would have to sacrifice her plans for the girl. Death Eaters knew to kill any family members they actually cared about, such ties were treason when your heart belonged to the Dark Lord before all others. As barbaric as it was, it did make sense to her. Since her family had disowned her she did not care for them, and then therefore didn't need to kill any of them to prove herself. But it was only a matter of time before he realised she had not killed her daughter._

_Tavia turned over and screamed into her pillow. Her next move would take all her strength, all her will power, to sacrifice her dream for another. But it had to be done, only how? Tavia rolled back onto her back and stared at her arm. There was no mark. She alone was unmarked by Voldemort. There was only one way she could move forward, and that was to offer her greatest possession to the leader of the light, in return for the protection of her daughter. But what right did anyone have to give away a heart that had been willing given to them? _

_Tavia closed her eyes and searched for the future. She had to see if she would succeed before she planned too far. Like a ship appearing in the mist, Hogwarts drifted into her mind._

---

It was all too easy to fall asleep in the Hogwarts library, Draco concluded as he worked the kinks out of his neck. It was not even worth it. The library needed serious updating before it could be useful to anyone. There was nothing to help Harry and he left in defeat.

As he walked around the shelves he had been sitting behind he caught a glimpse of orange before it disappeared from sight. He stopped walking and stared at where he had seen it before moving on. He wanted to believe he was paranoid about seeing Weasley everywhere but the fact was there were too many sightings for it to be coincidence anymore.

Weasley was following him. Although he had no idea why, he knew it couldn't be anything good, even though he hadn't attacked him or made any threats. Draco hoped Weasely hadn't seen where he and Harry were living but the odds were that he had.

Still rubbing his neck and trying to think of a solution to his weasel problem, he rounded a corner and collided with someone. Draco's senses reeled for a few minutes before he even realised he was on the floor. Dazed, he pulled himself to his feet and looked at the person he had collided with. It was a Witch, obviously not a student but too young to be a teacher. He took in her bare arms and wondered if brushing against her skin had caused his strange disorientation. He had not touched anyone since Harry.

"Sorry, Mr. Malfoy, I didn't see you," she mumbled, picking herself up also.

Draco snapped to attention, taking her in again. While it wasn't difficult to discern who he was from looking at him, knowing who he was after just colliding him and not seeing his face was definitely not normal. He held out a hand to help her up and nearly collapsed again when she took it.

It felt like someone was forcing his way into his mind, much like Harry only a little different. He also felt a part of him detach and move to her skin to read her emotions. He swayed and paled incredibly fast before snatching his hand away.

"I apologise, I had forgotten you weren't completely unlike Mr. Potter," she said quietly, brushing dust off her clothes. "Already diverged."

"Who are you and how do you know who Harry and I are?" Draco snapped, irritable in the aftermath of nausea.

"Alysia Feomorthe, I'm here to see Professor Dumbledore about what you and Harry did to You know Who," she replied kindly.

Draco paled yet again.

"Of course this is all a waste of time, it is you two boys that I wish to speak too,' she continued. "If you'd allow it, I'd like to come and see you both after my meeting."

Draco stared at her but nodded weakly. He'd heard of the Feomorthe family, they were the most powerful seers and users of alternative magic. If anyone could help Harry, it would be her family. She said something about knowing where he would be and walked away, leaving him in a daze.

The Feomorthe family had disappeared not long before Voldemort came to power. The only family member who didn't disappear was a daughter, apparently disgraced over something they saw her doing, she had changed her name, rearranging her middle and last names until she was no longer a Feomorthe. Draco had heard it from his father, that the daughter had been responsible for most of Voldemort's success, clearly the family had seen it coming and disowned her.

If the Feomorthe's were reappearing, were they going to aid the light? Their ability to see the future was unparalleled. Many witches and wizards hated them for never averting disasters they must have seen coming, which was probably why they disappeared so close to Voldemort's rising.

For a Feomorthe to involve his or herself in a war was unheard of, even more so now when one member was aligned with the dark. Although there had been no word on Tavialdreh for a long time.

Draco headed towards his rooms, head reeling with what it all might mean.

---

_Tavialdreh glanced around her nervously. It did not seem as if anyone was around, but then one could never be sure during the war. The grounds of Hogwarts was encased in a thick, impenetrable fog, Tavia was relying on her other sense for notification of spies. She had not seen any obstacles in her way before coming there, but her sight had failed her before._

_Hurrying across the ground, Tavia entered the school. The door was always unlocked during holidays, as no one expected an attacker to make it onto the grounds in the first place. Really, they were mocking Voldemort for his failed attempts to enter Hogwarts; he could not enter even while the doors were open. _

_Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls. It was eerie, she found it hard enough to be in the place of her childhood, but this was almost unbearable. It was all too easy to imagine that the emptiness was through the students having all been murdered, their bodies tucked away into corners. Although it was highly probable that most of the students she had attended Hogwarts with were indeed dead now anyway._

_Her family had told her she would be killing many of her friends, if she kept her course. They also told her that it was against their rules to take sides in war, or to accelerate that war, before they cast her from the family._

_Tavia shook her head and banished the thoughts of her family, as she always did when they surfaced._

_Dumbledore never left the grounds, Tavia knew this, and so she sought him out. He was the only one who could help her now, and if she had not in her possession such a precious thing as she did, she knew she would never have been allowed access to the grounds. Hogwarts had a way of knowing when it was safe to allow access to someone. Sometimes it was like the school was really alive._

_Dumbledore met her in a hallway, the very hallway in which she had changed Tom Riddle to Lord Voldemort, using a rearrangement of her own name._

"_Tavieldreh, how did you gain access to the grounds?"_

_Tavia whipped around. Dumbledore had followed her unawares, probably since she first entered the building. She desperately fought the urge to curse him into oblivion. Her vision for the future was no longer hers to bear, as she bore something far more important._

"_I need help."_

"_And what can you give me in return? You are Voldemort's second in command, in fact, if not for you, he would never have become the monster he is today."_

_Tavia swallowed nervously, regretting the fact that while everyone else had, Dumbledore had not forgotten her significance._

"_He was destined for this long before I interfered; I only accelerated the process, nothing more. And I can help you in the war," she murmured, not meeting his eyes._

"_How? I do not believe you will give me any information that will cause the death of Tom Riddle. While you may have his heart, he undoubtedly has yours also."_

_Tavia gasped. While it was no secret she was Voldemort's right hand, they had never given anyone reason to believe they were in any way involved. In fact, Voldemort flaunted many affairs, never had she been one of them. Her name had more than one interpretation, especially in a magical world, why would Dumbledore leap to that one?_

"_Tavialdreh Feomorthe Volderoth; '_I have the heart of Lord Voldemort'_," Dumbledore said softly, staring at Tavia in his intense way. "I do not believe rearranging your name and spelling that out so perfectly is a coincident. Nor do I think the creation of his name so soon after meeting you is unrelated. What could you offer me when you cannot harm him?"_

"_My gift, though weaker than it once was, can still help you, warn you. I want to help!"_

"_Only so he does force you to kill your daughter," Dumbledore said knowingly, but not unkindly._

_Tavia sighed and looked at the ground. There was nothing she wanted more than to save her daughter, but she could not bring herself to hurt Tom either._

"_Is Tom the father?" Dumbledore asked, and Tavia did not miss how he tightened the grip on his wand._

_She knew without a doubt that he would kill her if she confirmed his suspicions. No matter what she said, there was no way he could trust her. She was a master of alternate magic, Veritiserum and other such methods did not work on her. She barely knew why she had been bothered going to him except that she was desperate to try everything._

"_No, Lucius Malfoy is. This child, along with Malfoy's future son and another boy, will bring him down in the future, that's all I can offer you, please help me," she begged._

"_You would relinquish all parental rights over the child if I so ask?"_

"_Yes, as long as she lives."_

"_I think you should come to my office, we have a lot to discuss."_

_Tavia sighed in relief and followed the old man closely. She hated herself for what she was doing but she no other choice. Even if her daughter would help bring down Tom, she could not let her die. If Tom just killed the boy with eyes of death, then everything would be fine. _

_Although, as long as Voldemort remembered how to love, he would never be defeated either way._

_Tavia knew it was strange for Dumbledore to have agreed to help her so quickly. She wondered if he too had a seer, who had forewarned him of her arrival. For a second she wondered if it was her own family, before shunning the idea. The Feomorthe family did not participate in war, they believed in fairness above all else, and their gift was too strong to be fair._

_Whatever Dumbledore may have been planning, he also believed in fairness, and honour. He would not be planning to harm her after agreeing to help. It just wasn't his way. Regardless of this knowledge, she followed him closely, one eye on his back, the other on the future._

**

* * *

****A/N:** I'm so sorry this took so long but I was trying really hard to make it longer than the previous chapters. I hope it all makes sense, if anyone has questions just comment with them or PM me and I'll answer them. I know that sometimes my writing can be a little confusing.

There's another reason this took a while. Lately I've been getting into Severus/Harry since a friend linked me to a really good one and I thought I'd try writing one. I have a bit done, I was wondering if someone would like to read it for me to let me know if it's any good before I decide to finish it and post it. (I'm NOT looking for a beta). I only want to give it to one person though and I don't know if anyone would even be interested since it's got a bit of sex in it already, (Harry/Draco sex though atm) and it's just like a draft. If anyone is interested can you PM me with your email or something? I'll probably just send it to the first person who asks if anyone does, and if more than one does. I don't want to post it before it's finished cause I take so long to update all the time, as you know all too well lol.

Anyway, let me know please, and detailed comments on this would be nice :D


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** At the end. This is short and kind of weird I guess. Think of it like an interlude of sorts while I get the next chap sorted =]

**Chapter 10**

Harry was sleeping on the couch when Draco returned to their rooms. Draco stood staring at him for a while, feeling a little surprised at how peaceful Harry looked. Most nights Harry was experiencing either nightmares or invasions by Voldemort. It was so strange, and Harry looked so unguarded that Draco felt like he was intruding on something private. Regardless of this feeling, he was drawn to Harry.

He felt a sudden urge to know what Harry was dreaming of that gave him such a peaceful sleep, if he was dreaming at all. However, he doubted their ability worked that way. Even though he knew the impossibility of it, he found himself reaching out and resting a hand gently on Harry's arm.

Draco closed his eyes and focused all his attention on the waves of emotions flowing under Harry's skin. It did not take him long to detach his awareness from his body and move further into Harry's emotional core. The experience was something completely new for Draco; he had only experienced Harry using this ability, but he had never been able to stay within Harry's emotional being for long.

For a while Draco wondered if his easy passage towards Harry's core was because Harry's guard was down while he was sleeping, but he soon realised this was not the case. From the moment Draco had touched his skin, Harry became aware, even though he stayed asleep. It was almost as if a person's emotional being had a separate consciousness.

As he moved deeper into Harry's emotional core, Harry's emotions began to caress him. The moved close and flowed over and around him as he passed, like Harry was sharing everything with him. The emotions were not dark and not in any way hurting him and yet Draco felt like he was being torn to shreds by the trust Harry was showing.

As the emotions he passed became deeper and more complex, they lingered longer and he felt so completely engulfed by Harry, feeling him, breathing him in. If he had been in a physical body he was sure he would be crying from the intensity of it. In fact his body probably was crying.

At some point very near Harry's core, he felt a shift within himself. Harry was now awake and beginning to explore Draco's core. Instead of resisting, as he had done before, Draco stayed calm and embraced Harry. Even though he was still immersed in Harry's emotions, he vaguely felt Harry sifting through his own until he could no longer discern where Harry's emotions began and his ended. He no longer knew whether he was still within Harry's mind.

All around him he could feel Harry's emotions flowing over him, soothing him and pulling him ever close to Harry's most personal, intimate, and dark thoughts. Somewhere along the way he collided with Harry's consciousness and their minds mixed until they were one being, one vast and combined emotion, one soul.

It was the most intense experience Draco had ever had, and it was soon becoming erotic, although there was no definable line between anything anymore. Draco barely noticed when his consciousness shifted back to his body, he was still wrapped up in Harry's emotions. He did realise they were kissing, removing clothes and stumbling towards a bed, but he could comprehend nothing further than that.

It was as if there were no boundaries left. Caressing skin was as effective and erotic as the mixing of their emotions. They could barely understand, but when they were connected as they were, physically and emotionally, each state affected the other in hyper-awareness. Their emotions were colliding every second, sending sparks of pleasure through them physically. Every touch they shared sent sparks of blissful emotions through them, erasing the dark.

As the night went on and the emotions and reactions grew stronger, Draco felt every dark emotion he had not been able to let go be obliterated by the love, the lust, and the apex of the emotional storm they lost themselves in.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long and it's so short. I've been busy writing a Severus/Harry and school has been hectic and there was the ball too so I haven't had much time for more than one story.

Next chapter will be extremely focused on the plot and war. This story doesn't have long until it's finished, probably only a few chapters unless it doesn't work the way I want it to.

I wrote this really quickly in the last few minutes just so you could have something. I would have kept going but I felt like anything after this would just ruin it so I left it at that. I know that this chapter was probably extremely confusing but I guess I was in the mood for writing something extremely focused on emotions, even if it didn't make much sense.

I will of course explain anything if you ask.

And yes, they did just have sex.


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Alysia Feomorthe marched into Albus' office without any kind of pleasantries. Albus raised an eyebrow but produced tea, which she refused. Somewhat caught off guard by Alysia he just sat back and observed her cautiously, he had not seen her since she was very young. It was alarming how she resembled her mother.

"I'll get straight to the point, Albus," she said shortly. "I'm here to talk about Harry and Draco's talent regarding emotions."

"I assure you, Alysia, the situation is under control," Albus replied carefully, unsure what she wanted. "Harry will not be taking any risks."

"That is what I'm here about," she replied sharply. "You must not limit Harry or Draco in this ability. This is a very unique power, Harry has it by blood. Draco acquired it from Harry, completely unknown to Harry himself. This is the ability that will destroy the Tom Riddle, as prophesised."

Albus sighed and drank some tea, weighing up the situation. Alysia was in contact with other Feomorthes but she had not changed her name before arriving, so any actions she was going to take in the future were approved of by the very people that disowned, and on some occasions kill family members, for meddling with the future. Or perhaps she was deviating from her family and simply refused to change her name, as Tavialdreh had. Either way, if a Feomorthe was joining the war, clearly the finally battle was near, and the outcome was very, very uncertain.

"Regardless of whether this is the ability to destroy Tom, I cannot allow Harry to venture too far into Tom's mind."

Alysia was about to reply when she swayed in her chair, feeling an emotional maelstrom somewhere within the castle. It could only be Harry and Draco. The storm was increasing. Alysia slipped out of her chair and held her head as she could feel emotions being obliterated, screaming and resisting.

When the storm reached its peak she slumped in relief. Not only as the sensation of dying emotions vanished, but because of what it all meant. Draco had become the prophesised tool for Harry to use, a soul so full of light. Harry had destroyed every dark emotion Draco had, and dampened every painful memory of the past so no dark emotion could be born again from his own mind.

Harry would always have darkness in his soul, but Draco was pure. Draco was ready.

"Are you alright Alysia?" Albus asked, concern evident.

"It is not up to you, old man," she snapped back. "Harry has just cleansed Draco's soul, he has just reached the peak of his power."

"He is not ready, he is still a boy. His family had none of this ability, he has no one to train him. I cannot allow him to strike blindly into the soul of evil."

"Emotional magic of this kind is a mark of the Feomorthe legacy. Women see the future, Men control emotions. Harry Potter is a descendent of Feomorthe, he has the power now, he has a spirit of Light to aid him. He is ready. As a male descendent of the Feomorthe family, he has the power to destroy Voldemort and every one of his Horcruxes without ever needing to see his targets. You would dare to prevent this?"

Albus stared at Alysia sadly. Had Tavia not constructed foolproof walls in his mind for him he had no doubt Alysia could harm him. Emotional warfare was usually limited to the men of their family, but Tavia and her daughter broke the chain. As did Harry, receiving his gift with very diluted blood.

"I had hoped that sending you to your family would rid you of any trace of your mother. I see that attempt was unsuccessful. I will not rely on the emotional core of an unstable boy to end this war."

Alysia sent Albus a harsh glare and backed towards the door, talking as she went.

"I am here to aid Harry and Draco, to right my mother's mistake in aiding a monster. Voldemort will fall and my family and I will make sure the credit goes to whom it belongs. Voldemort will die. You have angered the Feomorthe family by refusing to play the part fate dealt you. We have often wondered how you were able to fight fate and refuse to do as we saw you do, now I know," Alysia spat. "Where is she, Dumbledore?"

Albus calmly observed Alysia. He did not reply.

Alysia narrowed her eyes.

"No matter, we will find her. Tell her that the whole Feomorthe family is searching for her, and so is Voldmort. She still has his heart, and he desperately wants her back to fight Harry with. If you are wise you will hand her over to us, a family of Seers is her only hope now."

Albus stared at the door long after it had closed behind her. Once again he wondered if Tavialdreh had spoken the truth when she had denied Voldemort being Alysia's father. Regardless, the situation was severe. Albus stood and walked to his fireplace. He stared at the flames for a while before deciding not to act.

The war was no longer in his hands.

---

It took a long time for Harry and Draco to realign with their own bodies. They lay panting for a long time. The emotional and physical climax they had experienced left them both shattered. When they finally felt anchored in their own bodies they opened their eyes and were not surprised to find the room in disarray. Along with their emotional shockwave there had been a magical one too. Many things in the room were destroyed.

Draco touched his face to find tears. He had felt as if every bad thing from his life had been overcome, and now understood that feeling. Searching his memories, he saw what would usually cause anger, sadness, and pain, but felt nothing. He searched further into his own mind and could find nothing but light, bright and strong.

He looked back at Harry and found that Harry was looking at him apprehensively.

"You...what did you do?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry frowned, struggling to remember. "I think I cleansed your soul. You're nothing but light now."

"You're in my mind right now?" Draco asked, confused. He could not feel Harry anywhere within him.

"No, but I can feel everything you feel. I think we're one now, like half of you is with me, and half of me is with you, but we still feel as we are fully anchored in our own bodies."

"I don't understand," Draco said. After all, how could you be split in half without knowing it?

"Neither do I, but I know that a part of you is with me, and it's like a constant update of how you are feeling or something. Is this okay?"

Draco stared at Harry, wondering if he meant the connection they now had or the fact they lay naked and tangled together. Was there even any difference between their emotional and physical connections? It had all melded into one feeling before.

Draco smiled and trailed his fingertips over Harry's face.

"I'm in love with you," he said softly. "How could it not be okay?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply but shut it quickly as he heard someone banging on their door. He frowned slightly but moved away from Draco. Draco sighed and began to search for his clothes. After what had happened, he didn't really want to return to reality.

Once both the boys were dressed they went through to their main rooms and Harry opened the door hesitantly, after all, not many knew where they resided. Before Harry could even so much as look at the person, she pushed her way inside.

"Forgive the intrusion, but it is very important that I talk to you both," the woman muttered.

Draco stared at her in disbelief. He recognised her from earlier in the hallway.

"How did you find us? Very few people know we are here."

"You know her?" Harry asked, glancing between them curiously.

Alysia had fairly ordinary features and a face that could easily be forgotten. The only thing that stood out were her eyes, a vibrant blue that bordered on supernatural. Although this didn't surprise Draco, most seers had unusual eyes. Draco could not forget the feeling he'd had when she had touched him.

"I'm sorry, sometimes I forget that the introductions I've already seen haven't actually happened," Alysia said almost bashfully. "My name is Alysia Feomorthe. And finding you was fairly easy after the emotional maelstrom you two just whipped up."

"You felt that?" Draco and Harry asked at the same time.

Alysia smiled deviously. "Obviously not the way you felt it or I doubt I'd have had the energy to get here. I mostly felt fringe emotions, and all of Mr. Malfoy's bad emotions dying."

"So I really did kill off all his bad emotions?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering his manners and directing Alysia to their sitting room.

"How much do you know of your ability?" Alysia asked curiously, as soon as she was seated.

"Practically nothing," Harry sighed. "Dumbledore knows next to nothing about it and he won't let me try anything that could be dangerous."

"Yes, I've just come from a meeting with Dumbledore. He knows more about your ability than he lets on, and he refuses to allow any advancement in it, regardless of the fact you have already fulfilled most of your destiny, and you are on the brink of victory."

Harry frowned and Draco felt a flare of anger and confusion in him. Instinctively he reached out and took Harry's hand, sending waves of calm into him, as he did not trust himself to try and dismantle the emotions himself. Harry gave him a grateful glance.

"Why would he do that? Surely he would seize any opportunity to defeat Voldemort?" Harry asked, looking back at Alysia.

"To be honest, we aren't so sure," Alysia said with a sigh. "My conversation with him has led me to believe he is sheltering Tavialdreh, which explains a lot."

"Who is she? And who are 'we'?" Harry asked.

"Forgive me, I often forget others don't know as much as I do. I will explain everything regarding this situation, okay?"

Draco and Harry both nodded and settled themselves, still tired from earlier.

"The 'we' is the Feomorthe family. We're the most powerful family of seers in the world. The women see the future, but the men have abilities like yours Harry, in fact no one outside the family ever has it, you are a very distant relation to us."

Harry's eyes widened at that but he stayed silent. Draco just frowned, knowing most of it already.

"Usually we stay out of wars, since we always know what happens before it does, which is an unfair advantage to either side. This war, however, balances on a fine point, and we cannot allow Voldemort to win. This desire for peace is not enough to drive us to interfere, but we must right a wrong made long ago. A Feomorthe broke our code and went to Voldemort at a most crucial moment, turning the war in his direction. We are now involving ourselves to right this wrong, and ensure she faces punishment."

"Tavialdreh Feomorthe Volderoth," Draco said suddenly.

Alysia nodded to him. She clearly wanted to say more, but seemed to be waiting for something. Looking sideways, Draco realised Harry was deep in thought.

"Is it a coincidence that rearranging her name spells out 'I have the heart of Lord Voldemort'?" Harry asked, brow furrowed.

Draco gaped at him. How had Harry figured that out? He turned to Alysia, suddenly fearing that it may be true. His father had spoken of Tavialdreh more than once, hinting at her once being Voldemort's equal. Were they really lovers?

Alysia nodded gravely. "It is no coincidence, she named him Lord Voldemort, and she has his heart. This is why it was very important that I speak to you before you try to assault Voldemort."

"I don't understand the severity of this," Harry said, confusion evident, no matter how much Draco tried to calm him down.

"If he loves her, then he has light within his core, and you can't fight light with light," Draco said softly. "I am his weapon aren't I? Full of light, if Voldemort couldn't love then Harry would destroy him with me, wouldn't he?"

Alysia nodded and elaborated, "Harry can still destroy him, he would destroy everything dark within Voldemort and then use his own darkness to destroy the light. But if Voldemort gets his hands on Tavialdreh, then she will do to Voldemort what you did to Draco, and then he will be full of light and you will not be able to defeat him, you are not dark enough, Harry."

Harry slumped, defeated. Draco sent consoling emotions through his skin and turned to Alysia.

"Then we simply have to act fast, don't we?" When Alysia confirmed this with a nod, he continued. "You're her daughter, aren't you?"

Alysia's eyes widened. "How did you know that?"

Draco smiled and replied, "I could feel it when you spoke of her."

"Would I have been able to turn anyone into my weapon?" Harry suddenly asked. "Did it have to be Draco? He had no abilities like this beforehand, did he?"

Draco looked hurt for a second, before Harry reassured him through their skin that he loved him and didn't wish their situation otherwise. Alysia watched this exchange curiously.

"There is some debate about that. When you began transferring this ability to Draco, your souls began to merge. At this stage it is impossible to know whether you were soul mates before or as a result of this. Regardless, Draco would have been nothing without you. But it was destined to be Draco, prophesised even. We'll never know for sure," Alysia said, sounding disappointed.

"So, I have to find Voldemort and kill him before he can find Tavialdreh?" Harry asked, pushing aside everything but his task.

"No," Alysia replied, surprising them both. "You could destroy him and all his Horcruxes from the comfort of you rooms. It's all a matter of opening the connection you have with him and hunting down every part of his soul before defeating the final part."

Harry's eyes widened and he suddenly looked excited and hopeful. Draco squeezed his hand and brought him back down, he wouldn't let Harry get too carried away, he didn't want to see his hopes shattered.

"I could do it now?" Harry asked, calmer now.

"Theoretically, but even I am not sure of how exactly it must be done. Acting rashly may prove fatal."

Harry absorbed this but would not be put off. "But I can do this soon?"

Alysia sighed but nodded. Harry sighed and looked relieved.

"If you practise your control a little, and rest up, there is no legitimate reason why you cannot do this very soon."

Harry nodded and pulled Draco closer to him. "It will all be over soon."

**A/N:** I know I'm taking forever with these updates and I am sorry. But the truth is I'm bored of this story. There will only be one or two chapters after this and then it's finished. I'll probably re-write it since when I started, I had no intention of adding anything about Tavialdreh, in fact I hadn't even imagined her at that point, and the beginning reflects that.

I'm also very busy with a new story. It's H/D but very, very different. I'll eventually want a beta for it, but at this point is there anyone who would be willing to just read over it and let me know if it sounds good? It's at ~10,500 words at the moment, which is only Part 1. PM me if you are interested, or want to know more about it first. I would use the beta I have for Imitations but I know one beta for two stories would just confuse me. I won't post it till I'm done, hence why I'm not looking for an actual beta yet.

Thanks for all the reviews. I'll try and get the last parts of this done quickly.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

It didn't take long for Harry to learn how to use his abilities. Alysia stayed with them and only left when her family called a meeting. It took weeks for Harry to reach a level of emotional control he felt safe with, and during those weeks the Feomorthes kept requesting his presence at their meetings, which he continuously denied. He didn't want any distractions and worked himself, and Draco, to exhaustion every day. Because he couldn't allow Dumbledore to discover what he was doing, most of his training took place in his classes, where he subtly controlled the class's emotions. No one even noticed, aside from Snape, who scowled at him during every one of his potions classes, but being unable to punish Harry for messing with his emotions. Harry was lucky no one else knew why Snape was suddenly civil to the Gryffindors and colder to the Slytherins, in the weeks of his training he realised how frightening his gift was.

It wasn't just emotions he could control. During his experiments and training, Harry realised that by destroying emotions, he also damaged the memory they were tied to, if he wasn't careful. He also discovered that there was far more depth to emotions that he had first thought. There was a different form of sadness for every different memory, the same for hate and jealousy. Discovering this made finally made Draco feel better about the state his core had once been in. He had thought himself evil for being filled with darkness, but all of his memories were dark, and since each garnered a unique emotion, it wasn't surprising how he had turned out. This discovery also halted Harry's process.

Voldemort had been alive for a very long time, and nearly everything he had done was evil. Within Voldemort's core would be thousands of different forms of hate, millions of anger and jealousy. The sheer magnitude he would be facing caused Harry to spiral down into depression, until Draco applied some underhanded emotional tricks on him. Even Alysia didn't fully know how to approach this. So far Harry could only destroy emotions one by one, the cleansing of Draco's soul being a different matter and not at all related or relevant. The Feomorthe family had many meetings about this, trying to search for the answer within the future. In the end it was experimentation that led to the answer, and the revelation of a betrayal.

Harry had been in Divination, where he'd been casually flitting from mind to mind, practising the destruction of emotions without damaging the memories overmuch, when he'd stumbled into Ron's mind. At first he'd thought he'd fallen into a Slytherin mind, it was very dark and fully of jealousy. But after turning his head towards the feelings, he realised with a shock that he'd stumbled into his former best-friend's mind. Still reeling from the shock of it, he delved deeper. When he examined a splodge of jealousy and the conditions attached to it, it had the feel of a sibling to it, wondering what else Ron was jealous of he had unwittingly called a few more family-related jealousies to him. On closer inspection he realised they had the same core shape and feel to them, which made the recognisable as jealousy. He had of course known there were similarities between them even though they were unique, but he had never looked close enough to see how they were structured. They were like little clouds of gas or liquid held together at the middle by something a little more solid. It was the solidness that seemed to determine what type of emotion it was.

Harry wrapped his mind around this solidness and called it to him until he was surrounded by jealousies of many different forms. At the same time there was a shift in the emotion patterns. Ron was shifting his thoughts to someone and emotions of them were rushing to the surface. Harry caught a couple, a large cloud of guilt and an even larger cloud of self-loathing, to which a liquid-like fear seemed to be attached. Curious as to what these emotions were tied to, Harry looked closer at them, and was shocked to see they were about him. He had sensed a lot of jealousy regarding him, which he understood to a certain degree, but these were stranger. Harry couldn't understand how Ron would tie self-loathing and fear to him.

There was a part of Harry's abilities that he didn't use often, and did not like to approach. He had found, mostly through Draco, that if he focused hard enough on an emotion and the sense of what caused it, emotions around him would piece together like a puzzle to form almost like a sense picture for him. As Harry engaged this ability he was horrified to find traces of Voldemort in the mix. He almost detached when he realised that there was a sense of betrayal and deception involved in this puzzle. It was all adding up to espionage, betrayal and fear.

Harry wanted to detach, he wanted to regain full consciousness and confront Ron about spying for Voldemort, but the fear was holding him back. There was fear regarding Voldemort of course, nearly everyone felt that, but there was another form of fear lurking close by that Harry couldn't decipher. It was tied to his family, but in a way that he hadn't encountered before. Harry summoned Draco into his mind so he could add his opinion, although he didn't immediately tell Draco whose emotions he was reading. Draco looked at the fear and instantly knew what it was.

"This person is afraid that their actions aren't enough to save someone. It's not fear of someone getting hurt because of them, it's the fear of not being good enough, a sacrifice being wasted. Look at the structure, it's immensely complex, tied with himself, his family, his actions and...." Draco broke off and Harry felt his curiosity well up.

Without speaking, Harry showed Draco what he had seen in the sense-picture. Draco watched silently, occasionally pulling up emotions for further examination, but otherwise keeping his thoughts to himself.

"I can't even pretend to think I have the right to tell you how to approach this," he said finally some minutes later. "I can only tell you what he's thinking and why, not what you should do about it."

Harry cursed the fact Draco knew why he had been called. Harry didn't know how to handle it. At one time Ron had been his best friend, he didn't want to hand him over as a spy and traitor, knowing the punishment he would receive. He watched the sense again and let Draco explain what he couldn't understand.

"He's doing this for his family, they have obviously been threatened and he'd acting to save them. I can't lie to you, you've seen the part of him that secretly wants you dead, his jealousy is overwhelming. I understand why this is hard for you to decide over, you've never really had strong familial bonds like he has. You can't fully understand his reasoning because you've never had a family you'd be willing to go to hell for. You like to think you understand the bond between a son and his parents but you only know what you have seen, and the majority of that was from your uncle and aunt. What you do is up to you, but I suggest you make one of your sense-pictures from his fear first, fear has a way of clarifying things."

Without another word Draco left Harry's mind and Harry decided to do as he had suggested, and settled down to experience Ron's fears firsthand, but already knowing that he had to report him. The only thing that was left was how damning that report would be.

---

The emotional plane was a barren place. The spaces between people were large and devoid of everything. There wasn't any light, sound, smells, or sights. Wandering the emotional plane was a dangerous thing, without keeping a strong anchor on your body it was easy to become lost and be forever trapped in a world of emotions that could physically harm you. A person only had one emotional core and being, and usually that person kept their emotions in a close ball within them, making the space seem even smaller.

Harry first entered the emotional plane three weeks after meeting Alysia. For his first trip in, he'd had Draco have half his emotional self inside Harry's core, ready to pull him back if he became lost or otherwise incapacitated. This precaution turned out to be unnecessary. Within seconds of entering the plane, Harry located a part of Voldemort. The shock of his sent him right back into his own skin. He spent the next few hours deeply shaken.

With great trepidation, Harry entered the plane again. Extending from his chest –he appeared on the plane as a spiritual bodily form- was a dark thread. Behind him there was always a shadow that wasn't a shadow. He had known the second he had seen this that there was a part of Voldemort within him, he was a horcrux. But with this horrific revelation came the realisation that the horcrux inside him would lead him to the other parts of Voldemort, one by one.

The one thread coming from him led to the horcrux made before him, and that to the next, going back in time to the last scrap of Voldemort's soul, residing in the body. As a distraction from the dilemma that was Ron Weasley's betrayal, Harry threw himself into exploring the emotional plane. Within the first two days of exploring, he located all the pieces of Voldemort's soul, though he did not approach them yet.

---

After locating the final part of Voldemort's soul, attached to his body, Harry returned to the real world. The end was very near. The only thing remaining was to fully prepare Draco and then take him into the emotional plane to finish the job.

Alysia, after meeting with more male members of her family, told Harry the ways he could fight. Draco could send his good emotions towards Voldemort like spells, or he could move closer and engulf Voldemort, suffocating his dark emotions until all that was left was the shred of light Harry must fight. They weren't sure which method they wanted to use. Harry was adamant that Draco keep his distance, wary that Voldemort's retaliation may be stronger if Draco was too close. Draco just wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

Harry was ready, even though Draco was not. Everywhere he went he was bombarded with emotional waves. His abilities and power had grown to its highest point. During many classes his frustration at not being able to train would cause the students around him to become angry or hysteric. His teachers were at breaking point from their newly emotional students, but it seemed Dumbledore had told no one about Harry's abilities. This only deepened his frustration, he could be using class time to train Draco so they could finally end the war. Although Voldemort was in a coma, the casualties kept pouring in.

---

Finally, when a muggle town was completely obliterated, Harry decided to act. He woke early, spending a few minutes to watch Draco sleeping, wondering if he was going to lose him that day. It was a terrifying prospect, as Harry didn't know exactly what would happen to Draco if Voldemort destroyed his emotions, Draco was so deeply tied to him after all. Harry woke Draco after a while and told him that it was time.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, eyes wide with fear.

Harry caressed his cheek, obliterating the fear before it had time to grow.

"It's now or never, I cannot wait any longer," Harry said softly. The main problem was that they were undecided on how to fight, he decided to sort this problem now, rather than in the emotional plane. "When we enter the plane, you may fight however you wish, I don't want there to be any regret or hesitation. Act on instinct and don't let any feelings towards me interfere."

Draco pulled Harry into a tight hug. "Okay, I think I'm ready. Where are we going to do this?"

Harry started, not having thought of this. However, he had some idea of how he wanted it to work.

"First, I must inform Dumbledore what I am doing. Only he can mobilise the Order, and they'll want to strike the moment Voldemort is dead. Second, I think this should be public, the great hall perhaps, and anyone wishing to see can do so."

"I hate the idea of being watched while we're not fully conscious but I think I understand," Draco said softly. "It's because today is the deciding battle, isn't it? It's only fair for them to know the second we either win or fail. If we fail, they can prepare themselves as best as they can."

Harry stayed silent. He didn't like the idea of failing, because it would mean Draco would die, he didn't care about himself. He just nodded and began to prepare himself.

---

Harry, Draco, and Alysia, stood inside Dumbledore's office. The old man looked nervous, as if he knew what was coming. Harry stepped forward and took a moment to survey Dumbledore's emotions. Once finished, he had a better idea of how to handle the situation.

"Today I am going to kill Voldemort, for good."

Dumbledore stared in silence for a long time before opening his mouth to reply. Harry immediately held up his hand for silence, knowing from his emotions what the old man was going to say.

"You have no say in this, you have no involvement in this. I could have chosen not to notify you at all but it would be best that you know. In one hour Draco and I will enter the great hall and begin. At the end of today, either I will be dead, or Voldemort will."

Dumbledore stared at Harry, weighing his options. He could not deny Harry this, the boy's determination was too strong to be denied.

"How will you do this?" he asked quietly.

"Draco and I will enter the emotional plane, Alysia acting as an anchor. One by one we will destroy every fragment of Voldemort's soul. It will be a joint effort, for I cannot accomplish this without Draco. During this we will be in a meditative state and extremely vulnerable. Despite this, I would like you to let the school know what is going on, they may have the choice to watch if they like."

Harry could feel that Dumbledore did not approve and forced his determination to burn brighter behind his eyes and his posture. After a staring contest, he finally felt Dumbledore cave to his requests.

"Very well, I can see you are very determined to do this your way. I will send the news around the school and will see you in the hall in one hour."

Harry nodded once and left the room. After all this time he had nothing else to say to Dumbledore. Without hesitation they headed towards the great hall to prepare themselves.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay. The next chapter should be the last. I haven't edited this because I just wanted to get it on here for you. I think after I finish this I will do a re-write because when I started writing it I had no idea I would add this whole emotion thing in, so I want to re-write it with that in mind.


	14. Chapter 13: P1

**Chapter 13; The End: Part 1**

Harry had expected himself to be nervous before it was time to act. He knew that Draco was nervous, probably enough for them both. But Harry was strangely calm as he watched students and teachers start pouring into the great hall. The tables had been removed and there were only rows and rows of chairs set up. The teacher's table had been removed and now there were only two comfortable looking chairs for him and Draco. They sat facing the each other, rather than facing the hall. Draco was uncomfortable and Harry found that this calmed him down, even if only a little.

The hour they had to prepare was nearly up and Harry was keeping Draco occupied with mundane conversation. The blonde was concerned by the lack of protection they had. The teachers had offered to stand guard, and Dumbledore had suggested calling in the order but Harry had turned down both offers. If they had no protection it was less likely they'd be attacked. It made them look as if they weren't vulnerable. Of course there was still a large risk but Harry felt confident that those on the side of the light would not allow anyone to interfere and trusted the students to take action if necessary.

It had taken him a while to decide how he wanted their audience to see what was going on. As this fight would be staged on the emotional plane they would only see Harry and Draco sitting comatose for a long time. Eventually Harry had stumbled upon the answer. Alysia, acting as an anchor, would be able to see the fighting, even if only as balls of light and dark. At Harry's insistence, she was going to project what she saw into the air above their heads. They had practised before anyone entered the hall, employing a pensieve so that Draco and Harry could see the effect. Although they had human-like forms on the spiritual plane, Alysia could not see this, so partially formed balls of light were all that was projected.

As the hour of preparation drew to a close, Harry stood to address the hall, which immediately fell silent. He took a moment to look at the faces, reminding himself that these people, these children, depended on him. It was a sobering thought.

"Thank you all for coming," he began, magically enhancing his voice. "In a moment, Draco Malfoy and I will enter the Emotional Plane and engage several pieces of Voldemort's soul. You will see this battle in the air above our heads, in the form of balls of light and dark, which are, essentially, pure emotion. Some of you may not understand how this works, I want you to understand yet there is no time. When this is over, if Draco and I survive, all will be explained."

Harry looked over at Draco, feeling overwhelmed by the fear and anxiety pouring from him. He did not attempt to dampen it. This may be their last day alive, he did not want to taint it with false emotions.

"I have been training my ability to influence emotions for a while now, I'm sure you all recall the rather disruptive and confusing classes lately. I apologise for that breach of privacy but without that training I would not be able to attempt this today. When we enter the emotional plane I ask that you remain as silent as possible lest you distract us."

This of course was a blatant lie, but better that they thought the boys still had some attachment to the physical world. Harry walked back to his seat and sat down. Facing Draco he gave him an encouraging smile. Alysia hovered nearby, already forming the bonds that would anchor them.

"Are you ready Draco?" Harry asked, his voice still magnified.

Draco closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before nodding, still not opening his eyes.

"Alysia?"

"Ready, once you enter, allow me a moment to adjust, then Draco can begin his assault."

Harry nodded, looking back at Draco. He still didn't know exactly how Draco would fight, and that worried him. But he knew that instinct had far more advantage than a carefully constructed plan.

"It is time. We enter the plane."

Harry closed his eyes and let go of his body, feeling Draco do the same.

The crowd watched in silence as both boys began to glow. Harry was the first to reach the plane, a wispy ball of white light rising above his head, a writhing mass of black at its centre. Draco came second, as if following Harry lead, even though in reality he would lead the battle. The ball that hovered over him was pure, blinding white, something that surprised many people. That Harry had darkness but Draco Malfoy did not was something that would confuse them for some time.

Harry opened his eyes in the plane and saw Draco next to him, almost too bright to look at. He reached out to touch him, marvelling at how ethereal he seemed. Their pure emotions blended together until they were almost one being. On the outside the two balls of light extended tendrils towards each other, and when they touched they shined brighter. Alysia circles their chairs, watching the balls of light intently.

One Harry had adapted to seeing Draco's emotional form he quickly located the string of darkness within him and began to pull on it, ungracefully dragging a piece of Voldemort's soul towards them. He knew that the line would be visible back in the physical world and wondered how Alysia would feel, seeing and sensing a piece of Voldemort being pulled ever closer. He put those thoughts from his head and signalled Draco to prepare himself, the first piece was near.

The string of darkness that extended out of his body could be seen for a long distance across the plane. As the piece of Voldemort's soul drew closer Harry could hear agonised screaming and also feel the fringe emotions of this part of Voldemort. Sweeping along the line it came, like a black fog, writhing about the central string. Next to him, Harry could feel Draco hesitate, trying to decide how best to fight the beast that was approaching them.

"Instinct, Draco, don't consider me in this," he murmured softly, the lips of his physical body speaking the words and the spell on his voice picking up the sound, if only barely.

Alysia heard Harry and, though her anchor, felt the darkness approaching. She looked up at the lights and saw it approaching, coming down from above to rest in between the boys.

"So it truly begins," she murmured softly, he voice carrying in the silence.

---

Harry was completely unprepared for this battle. Draco was a blinding mass of white, with no definite shape, twisting with the choking despair that was this shard of Voldemort's soul. As the darkness sped towards them, preparing to envelope them, Draco lost his shape and tendrils of light flew towards Voldemort, cutting through the darkness with gut-wrenching screeches. The part of Voldemort's soul that was inside Harry felt the pain and tried to escape him. Harry used all his strength to keep it contained, or they would lose all hope of finding the rest of Voldemort. Now that this part of Voldemort was closer, Draco was attempting to envelope him, but every time he spread out his light to engulf Voldemort, he was cut to pieces. It seemed that Draco could not fight despair.

In the real world, Alysia became more and more agitated, watching Draco's failed attempts to destroy the soul fragment. She could see the darkness at the centre of Harry trying to break free, and his struggle with it, they all could. She wished she could help, but as an anchor she couldn't interfere. She alone knew exactly what was happening and why, and wondered how the onlookers felt, not knowing the details. Feeling pity for them, she cast spells so that anything the two boys said could be hear clearly, and hoped they would forgive her for it.

On the plane, Harry almost lost hold of the piece of Voldemort within him when he heard Draco crying out in pain. For the first time, Harry thought that they might actually lose this battle.

"I can't do it, Harry," Draco suddenly yelled to him. "His despair is too strong, I can't engulf it!"

"You have to, I can't help, I have to keep the part inside contained so we don't lose the others. Find the root and destroy that, the rest will crumble!"

"There is no root!! It's everywhere, I don't have the same ability as you, I can't find the initial memory!"

Draco suddenly regained his form and backed away slightly, analysing his enemy, but unable to do what Harry could.

"It is the same root as your despair, the same crime committed against his trust!" Harry screamed, trying to contain the darkness within him.

"YOU ERASED MY DESPAIR, I DON'T REMEMBER IT!" Draco screamed back, moving further away.

"Locate the smallest part of despair within him, throw every single form of joy you have at it, I believe in you, I never gave you the chance to beat your own despair, I took that chance from you, but you can beat this despair as if it were your own!"

Draco cried out a few more incoherent words before losing his form and shrinking back. At first Harry thought he had given up, but soon he noticed a massive sphere of joy forming in the centre of the light. Draco threw it towards the darkness with a scream as shattering as his light was blinding and Harry had to look away from the light as it passed him. He knew they'd one when the screams began.

---

Alysia slumped to the floor in relief as she heard demonic shrieking fill the hall. It was the type of scream you only hear from the dying, when they know they have no hope, a scream to a bystander they know won't help them.

"One down, six to go," she muttered.

---

The next few fragments perished in much the same way, as Draco finally understood how to fight them. Harry was always stuck fighting the fragment inside him, unable to help Draco no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't need to join in on these fringe battles however, as only the main piece, the largest piece, of Voldemort's soul had light within it. As they came closer and closer to this main piece, Harry could feel it awakening. He would have to destroy the piece within him as soon as possible, or it would break free and join the main part of Voldemort's soul, and he didn't know what would happen if it did.

As a writhing ball of black fear faded into nothing, accompanied by the demonic screams they had now become accustomed to, Harry realised that they'd defeated all of the small parts of Voldemort's soul. All that was left was the fragment left in him, and Voldemort himself. Looking across at Draco, who had just returned to a human-like form, he knew Draco had come to the same realisation.

"Do we destroy the piece in you before the piece in him?" Draco asked.

"Yes, if it escapes me and joins him, the battle will be harder for you, in fact it might even wake him from his coma, and then we can't fight him at all."

Harry looked down at the black mass shining through the white of his form. He didn't know how Draco could destroy it without destroying himself. The light would destroy the dark, but Harry had his own darkness there too, and his darkness was central, it was more important to him than the light. Harry's darkness was all the shattered hope associated with all the adults who had mistreated him as a child. There was a hate there that drove him endlessly to never become like the man he hated. Harry could not survive on only light the way that Draco did, he knew that if the darkness in his soul was destroyed, he would die.

"How do I destroy that while it is within you?" Draco asked, pulling Harry from his thoughts.

"You can't destroy with while it's in me, that would destroy all the dark emotions in me, which would, without a doubt, kill me," Harry replied absentmindedly as he thought through the different ways they could do this.

"Kill you? But you destroyed all the darkness in me, I live," Draco replied.

"We are two completely different people, Draco. The darkness in you made you lash out at others, you reacted to it by wanting to inflict it on others. I react to my darkness by wanting nothing more than to save others from it. Without these dark emotions I wouldn't be who I am. The hatred towards Voldemort saves me from becoming like him, because that would be letting him win. The distrust towards my uncle and aunt makes me want to save everyone I can from neglect, because I have a constant reminder of how it feels. The darkness is my core, it pushes me forward. Without it, I wouldn't be able to survive, the light would devour me."

Draco shook his head. "I don't understand."

"That's okay, I barely understand it myself. But you cannot defeat this fragment of Voldemort's soul while it is still within me."

Draco nodded and looked away, deep in thought. Harry could feel Voldemort coming closer, and knew they had to act soon, but how?

"Draco, how fast can you shoot a projectile of light?" Harry suddenly asked, forming a desperate idea.

Draco looked at him hopelessly.

"Not fast enough for what you're planning," he answered sadly.

"I have faith in you, Draco, and there really is no other way."

Draco shook his head and glanced at the dark spot staining Harry, wondering just how much of it belonged to Voldemort. Harry's plan was stupid, but he was right, it was the only way. Shutting his eyes tight, he nodded his consent, praying that he wouldn't fail Harry.

---

Alysia listened to their conversation with an anxiety bordering on hysteria. They had planned it all, or at least they had known what they were doing before taking the plunge. But she had been right, they weren't ready for it after all. Half immersed in the emotional plane, she felt a strange ripple, half in the plane and half in the real world. She didn't have to turn around to know who had just stepped into the room.

**To be continued....**

A/N: I suck, I know. Thought I'd give you something since I've been stuck on the second half of the fight for ages and been too busy with exams and uni applications to be bothered trying too hard.

Sorry for the cliffie lol

I'd just like to point out to anyone who is really shitty that I was mentally done with this a long time ago, and would have abandoned it if there weren't so many people reading it and subscribed to it, I still get people adding it quite often. I'm so doing a major rewrite one day with a huge inclusion of Tavia, there's more to that story that isn't in here.

If you're bored go read Perception of Angels, I would love to have a few reviews on that.

Thank you to everyone who takes the time to review this, it does help me to write more, exams got in the way, that's all.

And I'm going to stop babbling like an idiot now lol


	15. Chapter 13: P2 THE END!

**A/N:** At the end. Sorry for errors, haven't edited or even read through it. Just wanted it up and done as soon as possible. Sorry for the massive wait.....

**Chapter 13; The End: Part 2**

If his body had been physical, and not spiritual, Harry would have been sweating and trembling in fear, and Draco probably unconscious. They were taking an incredible risk. In fact Draco was positive he would fail, and the only reason he was even trying was because there really was no other way. Harry had to let go of the piece of Voldemort's soul that resided in him, and then Draco had to destroy it before it reached Voldemort. Near-impossible because the speed of light was nothing compared to emotions on the emotional plane.

If this scrap of Voldemort reached the main body, then Voldemort may awaken from his coma, and therefore leave the emotional plane. Or he may become stronger, the darkness growing to the point where Draco may not even make a dent. They hadn't prepared for this. They hadn't even considered it. Harry had only seen the piece in him as a way to find the others. Stupidly, he hadn't even thought about destroying it.

Even now, while they stood still, it was straining to leave him and return to the source. Harry entertained the idea of this being the reason he was in pain around Voldemort, the scrap of soul trying to leave his body through the scar it had entered by. But it was a part of him now, and it would hurt when it left him. Harry blinked, it would really hurt him. He hadn't considered that.

"Draco, not matter what happens to me, defeat this part of him," he said quietly.

Draco opened his eyes and looked over at him.

"What's going to happen, Harry? If you-"

"No!" Harry interrupted. "Don't even think about it. This part of Voldemort has been within me for practically my whole life, it is a part of me. It will hurt when it leaves me, so much so I may pass out or have some sort of seizure."

"Do you have a point or are you just deliberately trying to make me fail at this!" Draco cut in snidely.

"The point is that you can't let me distract you," Harry snapped. "No matter how much pain I'm in, no matter how loud I scream or whether I collapse; you have to ignore me and destroy it before it reaches him!"

"I-I can't...but I-," Draco stuttered, looking terrified.

Harry smiled, "I know it will be hard, but this is the only chance we have, Draco, don't let me down."

Draco closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. Harry watched as his entire being of light began to centre on his hand until it was too bright to look at. Draco opened his eyes and stared at Harry with utter dejection, as if he knew he what was coming.

"I'm ready."

---

"Let me onto the plane."

Alysia stared at the intruder with utter contempt. The teachers drew their wands and started to close in but she waved them off. She hadn't seen this coming, but she knew that there wasn't any danger here in the real world.

"And let you aid Voldemort? We have to kill him, I won't let you interfere anymore mother. If you enter the plane you'll purify his soul, do you think I'm stupid enough to let you?" Alysia spat.

Tavialdreh smiled sadly. "They won't win while he's unpure, Draco isn't strong enough, his part is over, it's all up to Harry now, and he can't fight the darkness in Voldemort."

"He's not dark enough to destroy an entire being of light. I'm not letting you in."

"You have no choice, I asked you but if you don't let me in I will force you too, whether you're my daughter or not. You never saw Harry's fate but I have, as horrible as it is, I have to help it happen."

---

Harry closed his eyes ready to release his portion of Voldemort when suddenly something in the air changed. Another person had entered the plane. Opening his eyes and found himself face to face with a strange woman, who glowed with an energy that was slowly seeping away from her.

"Don't speak, Harry, just listen," she said. "I'm the one who started all of this, and at this moment I am purifying Voldemort's soul. I am going to give you a glimpse of what will happen if you do as you have planned, and another glimpse at what will happen if you follow a different course. Use this gift wisely because once you have seen it I will be gone, my punishment for purifying Voldemort, laid down by my family. After seeing this you must carefully decide what you are willing to sacrifice to destroy Voldemort, because this is your only chance. You're one of the only people on earth who gets to chose their own fate, it could go both ways. What future will you chose for yourself?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as he no longer saw the woman. Instead he was looking at himself, and Draco. They were executing his plan. Harry watched as a ball of darkness was released from him, and Draco released his light after it. He saw himself collapse and that was when the vision ended, but not before he saw something that shattered his resolve. The first vision replayed but something was different. Then there was darkness and something that made Harry's stomach turn.

He blinked, and then suddenly he was back, Draco looking at him waiting for the signal. Then it hit him. He knew what he had to do. The realisation overwhelmed him and he felt as if he must cry but there were no tears in the emotional plane, though he didn't realise his human body was weeping for all to see.

"Draco, destroy the darkness while it is within me, Voldemort has been purified, light won't vanquish him now."

Harry was appalled at how weak and frightened his voice sounded, more so because he would never be able to convince Draco that way. He could not help how terrified he was of his fate. But he made the choice, and that fact gave him strength.

"But you said that would kill you? Are you giving up?" Draco's light began to flicker, Harry was breaking him.

"No, I just realised what I have to give up, so that I can give the world peace. Do what I say Draco, it's the only way."

Draco gaped at him, light becoming weaker and weaker by every second.

"No, I won't, I can't."

Harry felt as if he would die from this feeling. But he had made his peace with it, there was no other way.

"Draco, I'm begging you, please do this. It's the only way to save the world. There has to be a sacrifice. This is who I am, this is my purpose in life. I was never more than a tool, Draco, a tool that was required to destroy Voldemort when the time came. What does it matter if I die? I was only alive for this purpose."

"I don't accept that, Harry! Are you saying that you lived though a hellish childhood just to die destroying the man who caused it all? Why drag me into this if you knew this was how it would end? Why do you have to sacrifice your life?"

"I'm not sacrificing my life, Draco, I'm sacrificing who I am, and I may die doing that, but it must be done."

"And I must do it, how is that fair?" Draco screamed at him.

"It's fair because your pain will end the suffering of millions. It has to be someone who loves me, it has to be you. I'm not the only one who must sacrifice something. Voldemort sacrificed the good in him to become the monster he is now, and we must sacrifice love to destroy the good in us, so that we can destroy him. It doesn't have to be fair or make sense, it is what it is and I need you to do this."

Draco looked away from him, thinking rapidly. Harry did not like the emotions that followed his train of thought but there was nothing he could do about it. Draco needed whatever excuse or false hope he came up with to do this.

"Will you hate me if I follow you?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry wanted to say yes, but then he understood. Once he died, Draco would go back to who he used to be, the darkness Harry had banished would return, and Harry wouldn't be there to make it better.

"No, I don't want you to do it but I understand," he replied. "In purifying your soul I changed it forever, when I die it will revert, I don't want you to suffer through that."

Draco took a deep breath. "Then I'll do this."

---

Alysia waved off the teachers who tried to heal her or carry her out of the room. The pain was nothing compared to the need to see this through to the end. She really should have known that her mother would stop at nothing. Voldemort was purified, which meant that even in the end, her mother could not see the wrong that she had done. Although Harry's suspicious change of plan and resignation for killing himself hinted at something she didn't want to consider. So instead she didn't think, she didn't look to the future, she sat and watched, at the same pace as everyone else.

She never felt so small.

---

The light gathered again at Draco's hand, and although it flickered, it was still strong. Harry braced himself as the light suddenly sped towards him. He locked eyes with Draco before the end, and that was all he would ever see or feel. Pain.

---

Draco stared at the mass of light in front of him. When his projectile had hit, Harry's form had dissipated until all that was left was a mass of light with a gaping hole in the middle. The light was all that was left of Harry. The darkness was who he had been and Draco watched as the light began to draw towards the centre, disappearing as it went. Harry was just fading away. Draco fell to his knees, unable to draw his eyes away.

He could feel Voldemort approaching, and Harry had been right, it was not darkness he felt, but light. He was helpless, his own end was coming, though he did not fear it. Unable to watch the remnants of Harry fade, he turned towards the white mass approaching him. It was massive, it blotted out all else. His only thought, as he closed his eyes, was that his death would be so sudden it would be painless, thought he could not say the same for the rest of the world.

The strange thing was that he could still feel Harry next to him. It gave him hope but he didn't want to look back to see him fade completely so he kept his eyes fixed on Voldemort's mass. He thought he was seeing things when dark wispy tendrils started pacing his face from behind him, moving towards Voldemort. The tendrils were miniscule compared to the mass of light, but there were so many of them. They wrapped around the light like weeds, all the while it seemed that the light was shrinking. Strange that the darkness never touched him, when he too was made of light, it made him wonder.

Turning around, he didn't know what he had expected, but he was heartbroken to find nothing at all, not even any darkness. But he could still feel Harry. Turning back to the fight in front of him he fought the hope that the darkness was Harry. It couldn't be when he had destroyed all the darkness within Harry, killing him. Draco couldn't take it anymore, he closed his eyes to it all, shrunk in on himself until he was the smallest ball of light and then wished it was all over.

Trembles began shaking the plane, screams were piercing the air and Draco's ears with violence, so much so that Draco thought he might die from them. Draco realised that Voldemort was dying but he didn't understand. Harry was dead, Draco had killed him. But he could still feel him slightly, a changed perception but still Harry. Suddenly he couldn't take it anymore.

Draco found his link to Alysia and pulled himself out of the plane.

---

His first thought was that he was dead. Every part of him was in pain, emotional, physical, he couldn't even tell the difference. He didn't want to open his eyes, he knew Harry's body would be in front of him. But eventually he had to. He averted his eyes before he even had a glimpse. Instead he looked out over the hall. There were more people there now than at the beginning. Many of them were crying and holding each other. Did they know it was over? Was it over? Voldemort had been dying when Draco left the plane, though he didn't understand what was happening.

He looked to Alysia but found her bleeding on the floor. He got up, promptly collapsing with a groan of pain. He crawled over to her.

"What happened?" he asked, surprised at how ragged and raw his voice was.

"Tavialdreh, she forced her way in, purified Voldemort. I'm sorry," she muttered, not taking her eyes away from the space above Harry's head. "But it's not over. I don't understand, what's killing Voldemort?"

Draco couldn't help but look at Harry. He still looked alive, he was still breathing. Reluctantly, Draco looked above his head. Hovering there was a ball completely devoid of light with tendrils flowing from it to a massive ball of light above it that was gradually decreasing in size.

"That's impossible, I destroyed the darkness in him, how can he....it's impossible....unless...." Draco trailed off, suddenly overcome by hope, but still fighting it.

"Unless, what?"

"He said that the darkness in him made him who he was, and he was so good a person that it was hard to believe there was darkness there at all. But the darkness was just something like a measure, with it he would act the opposite, becoming a good person. If that darkness was destroyed, then wouldn't it theoretically turn all the light to darkness, because the light was based on it?"

Alysia closed her eyes. The relief was strong, but sadness was stronger. Somehow she felt as if something darker had happened than a mere change of personality.

"Then the Harry that comes out of this will be a very different person. He may become the next Voldemort if he doesn't surround himself with the right people."

Draco swallowed heavily. If it came to it, he'd rather kill Harry the second he re-entered the real world than wait to watch him become the man he hated. After all the pain that the mere thought of Harry's death caused, Draco could hardly believe he was considering killing Harry himself.

He clenched his fists. No, Harry had taught him all about self-sacrifice, he had been willing to die for peace, or turn himself into a monster for it. The least Draco could do was give him the same peace he was giving everyone else.

Draco looked at the projection above Harry's heard. Voldemort was shrinking at an alarming rate, he was almost dead. Harry would emerge victorious, and very soon. Draco closed his eyes, cleared his mind, shed his last tears and raised his wand.

He dissolved the chair in front of Harry and took up position there, wand raised and trained on Harry's heart.

"Draco what are you doing?" Alysia asked, shifting so she had ready access to her wand.

Draco could feel the energy in the hall changing. Thanks to the spells Alysia had placed on their voices, they all knew what was going on. There was a thick malicious energy emerging around Harry as he power grew with the darkness within him. Draco realised he may not even be able to kill him, but if he had to, he'd die trying rather than witness a barely gained peace shatter at the hands of their hero.

"His soul is nothing but darkness. There's a very high chance he will become the next Voldemort, there's no light left in him and I don't have the power to give him any. I don't think he'd want to become Voldemort. He'd rather die, I'm sure of it. I'll do it, it has to be me."

Alysia struggled to her feet. It was hard to absorb, that all the work Harry put into this would be for nothing as he wouldn't survive.

---

There was only darkness. A swirling abyss, trying to pull him under, down. There was something there, at the bottom, something crying. The cries pierced the darkness like bolts of lightning. Pain. So much pain. And it was rising. Like a volcano, the pressure was building, the screeches were rising in volume and intensity. The dark abyss was shaking with the sound, the feel. It was hell, invading the senses. There was nothing but a little boy at the centre of the abyss, crying and screaming, covered in blood.

His eyes were red, or were they just a reflection of the blood. His skin was red and burnt, steam barely visible above the surface. The stench of suffering was leaking from him, choking up the air. There was something dangerous about this boy. It wasn't his own blood. It was a child's blood. It was the blood that was screaming, burning him. The boy was speaking but only hisses and screeches came out, like a vile cross between a snake and a bird. A vulture. This child was a scavenger, waiting for a new victim, another child. And another one had just wandered in.

The new boy wasn't crying or in pain. He was wearing strange clothes and his eyes were red, like blood but not a reflection. His face didn't look right and he had an evil aura around him. He had no fear of the devil boy in the centre of the darkness. Although the screams and the hisses drew him closer, it seemed that was where he wanted to go. The closer he came to the devil boy, the more a resemblance grew between them. The devil boy's eyes glinted with murder as he waited for the perfect distance.

One of the boys was Voldemort, the other was Harry Potter.

---

Alysia stared at the space above Harry's head. The light had completely vanished, Voldemort was dead. But Harry had not awakened. She looked over at Draco. His eyes were fixed on Harry's closed ones. His face was stone, there was no telling what he felt. Alysia knew he was being torn apart on the inside, and mere seconds from collapse. She wished she could take the burden from him, but here family had interfered too much so far. Besides, this was Draco's destiny not to know what happened to Harry. It was a horrible reality, that Harry had given Draco the power to kill him. And that's all that the power would ever achieve. Draco had only just mentally prepared himself for killing Harry, but he'd already done so.

Harry was not coming back.

---

The two boys were ripping into each other. Blood was everywhere, pain was everywhere. They were evenly matched. They were brutal. A fire was growing in the darkness, trying to burn them out. The darkness didn't want to let them out, it wanted to keep them, feed on them. One boy had already been at the centre, just a few steps from freedom. They were burning alive, screaming and crying. The fire was pushing them towards the edges. The centre was hell. The centre was the goal. Their ears were bleeding from the sounds; their eyes had already been scratched out. Tongues were bitten off from withholding cries and failing.

Their veins were like ice while the skin was like fire. They were falling and rising and being pulled this way and that. They were all over each other with nails and teeth. They were a part of each other, they were the same person. There was no awareness. Only pain, only suffering and the need to kill. Freedom was forgotten with the bloodlust taking over. This was who they were, who they had always been.

Bones were breaking, teeth shattering. Pain. Burning, freezing. Screaming and fire everywhere. The fire was a tornado, pulling them around, battering them against unseen sharp objects. They were shattered, they were tired. They were burning alive, freezing to death. Ripping each other's flesh to shreds. They were little boys, little murders, drowning in each other's blood.

They were dead.

----------------

**A/N:** and that's it folks. I finally finished it. I may re-write one day considering I didn't know the ending until the third-to-last paragraph.

I'm happy to answer any questions anyone might have about this, just in case it was way too incoherent.

A small note about Voldemort. Although he became only light, he was still evil. I'm not sure how to explain this, but I suppose you could say he was hurting and killing people through his good intentions. Manipulating good emotions to give pain to others. It's hard for me to explain this huge emotions thing I have here. But if you have a question I'll be happy to answer the best I can.

That's one of the reasons I want to re-write. This whole emotional fighting/awareness/control/plane was not in the plan when I started writing this, so I never did a proper approach to it, or explain it properly cos I was always making it more intricate.

Anyway, I'll shut up now,

I would apologise for the ending but that last line felt too good to write more. I was planning on a happy ending but I have little to no control over what I write when I start.

-Xezo


	16. NOTE

Clearly I majorly fucked up the ending. The only excuse I have is that I was so happy to finally have an ending that I didn't think about it enough. I'm only human. I posted it just after I finished writing it.

A few things weren't very clear. One of them is that Harry isn't fully dead. He was sitting at the centre of the abyss, the exit. He could leave, but he chose not to because if he did then Voldemort would find his way out of death yet again. If he had truly, truly died then the cloud of darkness above his head in the real world would have dissipated, showing that he was dead and he had no conscious thought or emotion.

Voldemort is dead, and Harry is still sort of alive. Think of Harry as like Voldemort before he had a body, and his whole consciousness or 'spirit' is sitting in the hell where Voldemort was (I'm reluctant to call it hell really). He can't truly affect anything in the real world and the only difference is that his body was never destroyed or decayed. If you want to get technical, you could say that when Harry purified Draco, he turned him into a horcrux, a good one.

I suppose the ending statement "They were dead" was incorrect but I meant it more as a "they're both in hell/the afterlife". I guess one of the reason's I didn't make this super clear was that I didn't want anyone wanting a sequel in which Harry is saved. I would gladly write it except that I'm unhappy with the direction this story took as a whole, I'm pissed off at my own mental "done with it" attitude which pushed out a crappy not-well-thought-out ending. I wouldn't want to start any sequel because I'm not sure that I would finish it, and after dragging this out for so long I think that's unacceptable.

That being said, if anyone desperately wants an alternate 'happy' ending' I could write it for them as it wouldn't take very long and I feel bad about the ending now that I've had time to think about it.

And about the comment left by the person calling me an idiot, I only meant by 'little to no control over what I write' is that I type extremely fast, so fast that I'm barely conscious of what it is that I'm writing. It usually comes out the way I really want it, because I don't have much time to think about it. Over thinking was what led to so many breaks in between chapters. I have complete control over whether or not I leave it that way or change it.

I should have changed then ending, I was just too pleased to have finally finished this after dragging it out so long. I apologise if I've ruined the story for anyone.


	17. ALTERNATE ENDING!

Alternate ending: (more of a continuation of the other really)

**Several Months Later**

Time passed at a torturous rate for Draco. He was dubbed a hero, and the constant acknowledgment of this only made life worse. As impossible as he had thought it to be, the world had forgiven him his birth, moved beyond his past, and embraced him as their saviour. Harry Potter, spirited away to an unknown location, in an unknown state, was soon forgotten by the world. It was hard to believe that the world could be so cruel to the child they had tormented for so long. If fame and impossible expectation had not been forced on Harry he would have been a happier child. Now Harry was stuck in a permanent hell of pain and suffering, keeping Voldemort from escape, and no one knew of it.

For obvious reasons the true nature of Harry's condition could not go public. It would only take one curse to release a stronger Voldemort upon the world, a world without his equal to fight him. Draco wanted to know where Harry was, but that information was kept from him by Dumbledore. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Draco would try to rescue him, which would only free Voldemort at the same time. And it was true. Draco had created many different plans of rescue, none ever amounting to anything due to the sheer impossibility of the situation.

Alysia was never awarded any recognition for her part in the downfall of Voldemort. Another example of the cruelty of the world. The story of a reformed Malfoy was far more selling than that of an unknown woman from a family of seers achieving something she saw well in advance. Draco often wished he had asked her about the future. Part of him wanted to know whether he would ever find happiness without Harry, but he was sure of the answer already. If he did not know Harry's fate then perhaps he could have moved on and found happiness, but knowing what Harry was going through for him, for the whole world, made that impossible.

Life after Hogwarts was not easy. He had no shortage of job offers, a fact that shattered him to pieces, knowing he was stealing Harry's future from him. In the end he chose a job researching obscure and rare spells merely to escape the world. He found a home so secluded from civilisation that the silence often brought on a strange feeling, similar to the link he and Harry had once shared, as if Harry was calling out to him from his hell. This yearning was always worse at dawn, and Draco would wake feeling as if something in his chest was trying to tear itself away to join with the rest of it, something that Harry took into himself a long time ago.

Sometimes, when he let down his guard, hope crept up on him, slinking through the shadows of his mind. It was always the same delusion; that the feeling within him meant that Harry was nearby. But in the end he knew it wasn't so. There was no way that Dumbledore would have allowed his home to be anywhere near Harry's body.

The only satisfaction that Draco drew from the war was that Dumbledore faded into obscurity just like Harry did.

Eventually the world forgot Draco as well.

---

Years past and Draco grew older, always wondering if Harry's body was aging or staying eternally youthful. Even though the world forgot what happened at Hogwarts that day, Draco could not. Sometimes, if he looked hard enough, he could see a small mark on his palm. Whether this was a figment of his imagination or not, no one could tell, but Draco always imagined it to be the mark made when he destroyed Harry Potter, when he let his killing light leave his hands to kill the final Horcrux. Because of this small, probably fictitious mark, Draco never forgot Harry. And he never stopped planning.

Draco found countless spells that could help Harry, but never one that could solve the real problem; Harry and Voldemort were evenly matched, one an entity of light, the other of darkness, Voldemort proving that light could be evil. He thought many times of finding Alysia and forcing the future out of her, desperate to know if he would ever find the answers or if he should give up and fade away in to nothingness, never to see Harry again.

Eventually he gave up anyway.

---

At thirty-five Draco was doing his best to forget Harry. He'd given up his research into helping him, he'd given up even hoping for a solution. He'd descended into the deepest pit of depression and was aware of it. He always felt disgusted with himself, hating that he could not force himself to be as miserable as Harry was.

---

Dawn came again, and with it the yearning in his heart for Harry. He no longer entertained the hope that it was Harry calling out to him from hell. He did not rise from bed to walk it off, as he usually did. He lay in self-pity and wallowed in despair. He sank into memories.

---

His memories felt like a coma. He was surrounded by thoughts and images of Harry, the time they spent together. Overwhelmed by bliss, he lost grip on the world around him, until, slowly, he drifted away from the light until all that was left of him was a shimmering trail of fragmented light, leading into a swirling abyss of nothingness.

---

The two boys were still ripping into each other. It had been years and Blood was everywhere, pain was everywhere. They were evenly matched. They were brutal. The fire was everywhere and all consuming. It was in their lungs and under their skin until all they felt was pain and yet still they fought. Their ears were bleeding from the sounds of their own screaming; their eyes had already been scratched out. Tongues were bitten off from withholding cries and failing, throats stripped raw and bleeding.

They were falling and rising and being pulled this way and that. They were all over each other with nails and teeth. They were a part of each other, they were the same person. There was no awareness of anything, only pain, only suffering and the need to kill. Freedom was forgotten with the bloodlust taking over. This was who they were, who they had always been.

Bones were breaking, teeth shattering. Pain. Burning, freezing. Screaming and fire everywhere. The fire was a tornado, pulling them around, battering them against unseen sharp objects. They were shattered, they were tired. They were burning alive, freezing to death. Ripping each other's flesh to shreds. They were little boys, little murders, drowning in each other's blood.

It had been this way for years, unchanging. But the fire began to dim and they were left with only the pain they caused each other. There was a strange feeling in the air that neither noticed, but both felt deep into their core. Darkness grew within light, light grew within darkness until the two entities were reversed and changing. The being of light that had once been dark noticed the new light in their hell, he clung to it, drew it into himself. It was so familiar but he couldn't think why. There was still only pain and the urge to destroy the other boy there with him. They had been evenly matched, he had been dark, so consumed with hate and jealousy, anger and sadness. But now he was light and he was stronger, there was something there beside him at his very core, something warming him.

Harry turned this new power towards the enemy he had spent so many years in battle with, and was blinded by his own power. When the light began to fade, there was no darkness left. The abyss was destroyed. He was in somewhere light, warm. This new place felt like home, and he wasn't alone.

Harry was aware of everything he had been through, all the years of fighting, all the pain and loneliness, the sadness. He had been made of darkness, and made to live through it.

He closed his eyes and breathed Draco in, felt him deep within his core. They were one person. They were surrounded by bliss and no suffering. It was so peaceful and quiet Harry could scarcely believe it and yet knew it was real. After so many years of suffering he was at peace, he was with the one he loved, so close they became one. They drifted through their home.

They were free.

-----

A/N: I'm very happy with this ending. This is it, no other alternates, this is the way I want it to end.


	18. Have posted the start of a rewrite

Hey, don't know if anyone will check this out, but I've finally posted the first chapter of the re-write, it's called _Once Touched_, _Forever Changed _(though I really wanted to change the title to "The Will to Live" since it reflected the story better but it sounded too cliché I guess) and it's quite different and I actually have a plan so it should work much better than this version.

I still get tonnes of hits on this story and also a lot of emails saying people have favourited it so I figured I should hurry up and re-write it so it's better lol

If there is anyone willing to be a beta, having read the original, let me know cos I would like to have someone from the old version give me feedback on the new =] keep me in line and all that lol

Anyway sorry for bugging you all so long after this story finished =]


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